Only One Word Comes to Mind
by wonderwoundedhearers
Summary: From beginning to end this explores what Michael's thinking, in every scene he's ever appeared in, in 'The Princess Diaries' – through books 1-10, I'll give you a peek into his complicated boy-brain.
1. Summary

_**Only One Word Comes to Mind**_

Michael's point-of-view from the beginning to the end, in every scene he's ever appeared in, in 'The Princess Diaries' – through books 1-10, in O/s form, I'll give you a peek into his complicated boy-brain. Some'll be short, some'll be long, but all of them will be about him and Mia. (Most probably.) Might be about how much he hates Kenny… You'll just have to wait and see! Please review and let me know what you think! Peace! (Chapter listings will be provided in one final chapter when I'm all done and dusted!)

_wonder_


	2. Thursday, September 25

_**Thursday, **__**September 25**_

His ears pricked and he paused as he walked back to his room from grabbing some chips from the kitchen – his mom was talking to Lilly and Mia.

"…Mia, how do you feel about your mother starting to date your Algebra teacher?"

Mia had Mr G for Algebra. Mia's mom was dating_ Mr_ _Gianini?_

He couldn't help the words slipping from his mouth. "_Your _mom is dating Frank Gianini?"

Mia looked up and across the room with wide, frightened eyes as Lilly scowled at him from her seat on the couch next to her best friend.

He couldn't help the laugh that followed his question.

_Wow. That bites…_

Mia suddenly jumped up and began to beg. "Michael, you _can't _tell anyone. _Please_! It'll be a death sentence."

He was planning on doing no such thing, but it was always fun to pick on Mia – her eyes were always so big and her face always so pleading. He always liked to tease her, just to get her to look at him that way. He supposed he'd always had a little childish crush on his sister's best friend, and the idea that he could get something out of Mia for keeping her little secret was too tempting to pass up.

"What'll you do for me, huh, Thermopolis? What'll you do for me?"

Mia's big grey eyes were wild. "Uh…I'll walk Pavlov? Or I could…take those empty Tab cans in the kitchen back to Gristedes? I know you're meant to do that… Or I could–"

He felt disappointment bite at him. He had expected her to be a little more creative…but then that could have been his mind running wild at the unlimited possibilities presented to him.

"Forget it, okay, Thermopolis?"

He didn't mean to say it so harshly, or practically stomp back to his room the way he did, but he did it anyway – with hundreds of ridiculous possibilities running through his mind.


	3. Saturday, October 4

_**Saturday, October 4**_

He was answering mail for _Crackhead_. He could hear Lilly and Mia having a long Bond movie marathon in the other room – he wanted to join them but there was something inside him that refused to sit with two teenaged girls on a Friday night: some kind of misplaced sense of masculine pride.

The rest of him eventually won out.

As soon as he disconnected the internet to go join in with Lilly and Mia, the phone rang. He answered it. "Hello?"

"It's Mia's father. I need to talk to her. I've been trying to get through for _hours_."

The man sounded _pissed_.

"One minute," Michael said and left the corded phone hanging down from the unit screwed to the wall.

He realised he _wasn't_ shirtless as soon as he stepped into his parents' bedroom. He always seemed to be bare-chested around Mia – not that it was on purpose or anything, though – but he _did_ like the way it unsettled her or made her stare. But he realised he wasn't because Mia's eyes automatically became glued to his chest as soon as he entered the room – like they always did when he entered the room, usually because he _was _bare-chested.

He was annoyed at the idea that suddenly passed through his mind – the idea that he should have taken his shirt off for Mia before he went into the bedroom.

_Just a little crush… Nothing to get jumped up over…_

He battled a scowl. "Mia, your dad's on the phone. He's been calling for a while, but I was using the internet and he couldn't get through."

Her wide grey eyes met his…and they were even wider than usual. She looked like she'd swallowed a bowling ball.

There was a lull, before he finally recognised her expression as one of pleading. "Okay, don't worry about it, Thermopolis. I'll tell him you and Lilly already went to bed."

He went back to the phone. "Sir? Are you still there?"

"_Yes_. Is she there?"

"I'm sorry. She's already asleep. I _could _wake her up–"

"No, no! That's alright. I apologise. It is quite late. Tell her I'll talk to her in the morning. Thank you."

Michael hung up and went and reported back to Mia. She still had that pained look on her face. He knew just the thing to cheer her up.

He called Pavlov in. The sheltie leapt up onto the bed at Michael's command and, like a faithful pet, immediately saw why it was called. Pavlov crawled over to Mia and licked her face.

She couldn't resist. She smiled.

Michael's heart fluttered at the sight.

Lilly ruined the moment. "Michael, which Bond girls would you rather sleep with? The 'damsel-in-distress' blondes, or the gun-toting brunettes?"

His mind immediately conjured up an image of Mia with a gun, but he quickly shook it away and gave his sister a half-smile. "Can't resist a girl with a weapon."

The answer immediately gave way to a long conversation on _Xena _and _Buffy_.

At one point, Mia turned to him. "If it was the end of the world and you had to repopulate the planet, but you could only choose one life mate, would you choose Xena or Buffy?"

He loved the way she asked those kinds of questions, even if he'd never admit it.

"You're weird, Thermopolis. But…I suppose it would be Buffy."

The questions went on, ranging from Harrison Ford to Josh Richter. But it was at that point that Michael took a stand.

"What's so great about Josh Richter? He's _pretty_, and that's it. I even bet he's a coward – you'll be living in your post-nuclear Armageddon world, happy with your choice of life mate, and then a problem will turn up to which he'll just turn tail and run, leaving you to fend for yourself."

"Fear of new things is not an accurate measure of one's potential for growth, Michael," Lilly replied.

Mia nodded.

Michael tried not to sulk. "Well, you're both idiots if you think Josh Richter would ever give you as much as the time of day. He only likes girls like Lana Weinberger – girls who _put out_."

That should have been the end of the conversation, but instead of dwindling it continued.

"_I'd_ put out for him if he met certain conditions," Lilly shot back. "Like bathing beforehand in an anti-bacterial solution, and wearing three condoms coated in spermicidal fluid during – you know, just in case one breaks or slips off."

He suppressed a shudder, before a thought hit him – would _Mia_ put out for Josh?

He asked her. She paused. That was enough of an answer for him, and it stung a bit.

Then she came out with a totally ridiculous set of guidelines. "I _would_…but _only_ if we had been dating for a year, he pledged his undying love for me, and he took me to see _Beauty and the Beast_ on Broadway and _didn't_ make fun of it."

He thought she was crazy if she was going to stand by those rules, but a part of him wondered whether it would be so arduous a task knowing, as he would, that he would have Mia by the end of the night if he just watched the stupid show and kept his mouth shut…

Instead of saying anything going on in his brain, he decided to make a smart-ass comment. "The first two sound alright, but if the third one's an example of the boyfriend you expect to get then you're going to be a virgin for a long, long time, Thermopolis. I don't know anyone with an ounce of testosterone who can watch that show without projectile vomiting."

Mia frowned.

Lily cut in. "You're going on about Josh, what about Lana? If you had to choose, would it be Mia or Lana Weinberger?"

"Mia, of course," he replied instantly – _hands down_, his mind added.

Lilly's eyes narrowed and she fired more questions at him, all of them between Mia and someone else. He chose Mia over a couple of them and a couple of them over Mia, finally realising Lilly's game – he had to seem impartial because Lilly was trying to zero in on Michael's eeny-weeny Mia-crush.

He wouldn't let her.

After so long, Lilly gave up…on Michael. She turned to Mia. "Mia? Michael, or Josh?"

Lilly's eyes immediately darted to Michael's face, reading his expression – he tried to keep it level but his heart was making it extremely difficult by beating out a samba.

Mia's brow furrowed. She looked thoughtful, like she was _truly_ considering the question. A spark of something very much resembling hope sprung up in his chest…

"Michael? Lilly? Mia? What–_Pavlov!_"

Michael internally sighed. His parents were home, shouting and yelling about the mess in their room, and he would never know the answer.


	4. Saturday Night

_**Saturday night**_

He was on his computer, typing away answering e-mails and trying to forget the disturbing thing Lilly had told him earlier.

_Hey, loser__… Mia chose Josh… Where are the Ho Hos?_

He shook his head, trying to scramble the loop of Lilly's voice playing endlessly – _Mia chose Josh… Mia chose Josh…_

How could Mia choose _Josh Richter_? He couldn't understand it–

There was a sudden knocking noise and an IM box popped up on the screen – it was between himself and…_FtLouie_.

Mia.

"Crap."

He decided to start the conversation himself, and he started it sounding pissed.

_**CracKing**__: What do you want, Thermopolis?_

_**FtLouie**__: I want to talk to Lilly. Please go off-line so I can call her._

Nice and straight to the point – the point being _Screw you, Michael._

_**CracKing**__: What do you want to talk to her about?_

He couldn't help but ask.

_**FtLouie**__: None of your business. Just go off-line, please. You can't hog all the lines of communication to yourself. It isn't fair._

The word struck him _right _between his eyes. Fair. _Fair_. Well, he knew of something else that wasn't 'fair'…

_**CracKing**__: No one ever said life was fair, Thermopolis. What are you doing home, anyway? What's the matter? Dreamboy didn't call?_

It was low and dirty and completely called for.

_**FtLouie**__: Who's Dreamboy?_

She didn't even know she had hurt him.

_**CracKing**__: You know, your post-nuclear Armageddon life mate of choice, Josh Richter._

There was a long pause. She knew he knew. He wanted to feel smug, shocking her with that little bombshell, but he just felt hurt and hollow. Mia had chosen an air-head pretty-boy over him…

_**FtLouie**__: WOULD YOU PLEASE GO OFF-LINE SO I CAN CALL LILLY?_

_**CracKing**__: What's the matter, Thermopolis? Did I strike a nerve?_

The sound of a door slamming shut announced her exit from the conversation window…and the IM program altogether.

Hurt and hollow.

He immediately logged off and then went off-line entirely, thinking to himself he was doing it because he was finished and not because she asked him to.


	5. Friday, October 10

_**Friday, October 10**_

He was on his way out of a Computer Club meeting. He wondered why he ever wanted to be treasurer. They were all up their own asses.

He made a left to go to the Boys' Room and then found himself colliding with a sweet-smelling soft object.

It was Mia.

"Christ, Thermopolis."

Her backpack dropped from her hands and a range of stuff skittered out of the open zipper. But he couldn't care less because he had gotten a good look at her.

"What happened to _you_?" He asked.

But that wasn't what was going on in his mind. In his mind, he couldn't give a crap, because something had just exploded within his heart, head and stomach – something that blew his little Mia-crush completely out of the water.

She was _beautiful_. Not that she hadn't been beautiful before but now her light hair was a little tamer and her smooth lips were painted dark red, making them look fuller, and…was that pantyhose?

Her legs were _long_…

She was jabbering on. "You know I have to meet with Mr Gianini every day after school, because I'm flunking Alge–"

He cut in, picking up a black lipstick tube from the floor. "I know _that_. I mean what's with the war paint?"

She snatched it away. "Nothing. Don't tell Lilly."

In his still-stunned brain that caught his interest.

"Don't tell Lilly what? Jesus, Thermopolis. Where are _you _going?"

"Nowhere," she replied through gritted teeth, her eyes darting over his shoulder, probably, at some other onlookers.

He shifted uncomfortably – something was…_changing_ at the sight before him. "Nobody goes _nowhere_ looking like _that_."

And then a thought struck him.

"Thermopolis, are you going out on a _date_?"

He felt sick. Her reply mollified him only a little.

"_What_? No, I'm not going on a date! I have to meet my grandmother!"

Her expression was sincere, her grey eyes wide, but that last addition to her reply seemed unlikely – who gets so dressed up to meet their grandma?

"And do you usually wear lipstick and pantyhose to meet your grandmother?"

There was a sudden soft cough that interrupted them, and he turned his head to see a big guy dressed in black pointedly looking at Mia from the doors down the hall. He could have swore he even saw a gun-bulge under the guy's jacket.

What the hell was going on?

She gathered up the last of her stuff. "Look, don't tell, Lilly, okay?"

And she ran.

The Computer Club crowd that had gathered dispersed.

He definitely wouldn't tell Lilly. _He_ wasn't even sure what had happened. But, lamely, he hoped it wasn't a date, because he was pretty sure he had just found out that his little Mia-crush was way bigger than anyone could have guessed. Especially him.


	6. Even Later On Saturday

_**Even later on Saturday**_

There was shouting. Of the female variety. He knew Lilly was one of those females, while the other one sounded like…Mia?

He looked down at his chest as he sat at his computer eating the last of his cereal. Clothed.

He took his shirt off before opening up his bedroom door and using the master plan of taking his cereal bowl back to the kitchen as a cover to spy on his sister and her best friend.

"Lilly, _shut up_."

It was Mia. _Mia_ was telling _Lilly_ to shut up.

He rushed to the scene. "Whoa."

Blinding gold met his eyes. Mia had looked good the other day when they had had their run-in after Computer Club, but right then…she looked _even more_ _amazing_. Her hair was shining gold, cropped short, and…it looked _really good_.

His brain was malfunctioning.

"What? _What _did you just say to me?" Lilly practically hissed.

He finally looked at his sister. She was fuming…but Mia was _beautiful_.

That three-point explosive feeling, firing off in his head and heart and stomach, set off again.

"I'm tired of you putting me down all the time. All day long, my mom and dad and grandmother and teachers are telling me what to do. I don't need my _friends_ getting on my case too." Mia glared.

Mia was _seriously _standing up for herself.

"Whoa," he said, again.

It was…kind of hot when she was like that.

Lilly's eyes narrowed. "What is your _problem_?"

Mia took a step back. "You know what? I don't have a problem. _You're _the one with the problem. You seem to have a big problem with me. Well, you know what? I'm going to solve your problem for you. I'm leaving. I never wanted to help you with your stupid Ho-Gate story anyway. The Hos are nice people. They haven't done anything wrong. I don't see why you have to pick on them. And my hair is _not_ yellow."

And she was gone.

It was _definitely_ kind of hot when she was like that.

Lilly turned to him, her eyes two tiny slits. "Can you _believe_ her?"

He shut his open mouth and gave his sister a _big_ smile, before walking off to put his cereal bowl in the kitchen sink.


	7. Even Later On Sunday

_**Even later on Sunday**_

He hadn't been waiting for her – not exactly – but when her icon appeared as 'online' he felt as if he had been. He sent her a message straight away.

_**CracKing**__: Hey, Thermopolis. What happened to you last night? It's like you went mental, or something._

He congratulated himself on his lack of tact.

_**FtLouie**__: For your information, I did not go mental. I just got tired of your sister always telling me what to do. Not that it's any of your business._

_He _got tired of his sister always telling him what to do, but he didn't blow up in her face about it. Mind you, he had had years to hone his come-back skills.

_**CracKing**__: What are you being so snotty about? Of course it's my business. I have to live with her, don't I?_

He did. He could still feel Lilly's anger radiating through the walls, like she was some thermonuclear reactor just waiting to go into meltdown again.

_**FtLouie**__: Why? Is she talking about me?_

She _had_ been screaming.

_**CracKing**__: You could say that._

_**FtLouie**__: What's she saying?_

Did she _really _want to know? He couldn't help but tease her.

_**CracKing**__: I thought it wasn't any of my business._

_**FtLouie**__: It isn't. What's she saying about me?_

He liked this Mia. He obliged her.

_**CracKing**__: That she doesn't know what's with you these days, but ever since your dad came to visit, you've been acting like a head case._

He should have guessed her reaction.

_**FtLouie**__: Me? A head case? What about her? She's the one who's always criticizing me. I'm so sick of it! If she wants to be my friend, why can't she just accept me the way I am?_

He smirked, taking the opportunity.

_**CracKing**__: No need to yell._

_**FtLouie**__: I'm not yelling!_

_**CracKing**__: You're using excessive amounts of punctuation, and on-line, that's like yelling. Besides, she's not the only one criticizing. She says you won't support her boycott of Ho's Deli._

He felt like an intermediary.

_**FtLouie**__: Well, she's right. I won't. It's stupid. Don't you think it's stupid?_

Of course he did. Lilly was _always_ doing something stupid. But now he didn't care so much about what had passed in the conversation, he wanted to move on to something else. The idea had come to him earlier, and it had been a good one.

_**CracKing**__: Sure, it's stupid. Are you still flunking Algebra?_

Not a clean-cut segue, but it was all he had. A fluttering erupted in his belly.

_**FtLouie**__: I guess so. But considering the fact that Mr G slept over last night, I'll probably scrape by with a D. Why?_

That threw him for a loop.

_**CracKing**__: What? Mr G slept over? At your place? What was that like?_

Waking up to find your Algebra teacher at the kitchen table? No, thanks.

_**FtLouie**__: It was pretty awful. But then he kind of joked around, and made it okay. I don't know. I should probably be more mad, but my mom's so happy, it's hard._

He could understand that. He couldn't understand how they were having such a normal, intimate conversation though – they always had things to talk about together, yes, but it had never felt so…_right_ before.

He stopped himself before he began analysing things too thoroughly.

_**CracKing**__: Your mom could do a lot worse than Mr G. Imagine if she was going out with Mr Stuart._

Handsy. _Very_ handsy.

_**FtLouie**__: Ha ha ha. Why'd you want to know whether or not I'm flunking Algebra?_

The fluttering came back full-force. He went for a casual start.

_**CracKing**__: Oh, because I'm done with this month's issue of Crackhead, and I thought if you wanted, I could tutor you during G & T. If you wanted._

_Too many 'if you wanted's… Too late to take one back…_

Why the hell was he so nervous? He was_ just_ helping out his little sister's best friend.

_**FtLouie**__: Wow, that would be great! Thanks!_

She had said yes. _Yes_. It was _almost_ too good to be true, until he realised he had only offered to be her Algebra tutor – it wasn't anything life-changing…no matter how much it kind of felt like it.

_**CracKing**__: Don't mention it. Hang in there, Thermopolis._

He signed off before he could say anything to ruin his moment of victory.


	8. Later On Monday

_**Later on Monday**_

"You need to write all your Algebra notes in one book, Mia, or you'll get confused. And you're still subtracting the wrong way…"

He was in G & T, helping Mia with her Algebra, and he had never felt more tormented in his life.

He was sitting next to her, at the same desk, and he could smell that citrusy shampoo she liked to use. He could also smell something else, something that was distinctly _Mia_. That scent was urging him to do all sorts of crazy things.

Like tuck her new hair behind her ear. Or lean in and take a deeper breath. Or, _perhaps_, catch the knee of hers that kept brushing against his.

Pure and utter torment.

Mia was pretty bad at Algebra but she was a quick learner, and he couldn't find it within himself to complain anyway – especially not when she'd make a mistake and he could take the pencil from her hand, brushing her soft skin…

She made a mistake. He gently took away the pencil. "No, like _this_, Mia."

When he looked up to see if she was paying attention to what he was writing he found her looking slightly dazed, her big grey eyes unfocused. She looked happy though, like he was affecting her in the same way she was affecting him. Did she–

The door to G & T swung open. Everyone glanced up. Pink slip.

The hall monitor looked around. "Amelia Thermopolis?"

He swung his eyes to look at Mia in shock – what could _she_ have done? Then a thought hit him. Someone had stabbed Lana Weinberger in the chest with an ice-cream cone – he hadn't been in the cafeteria at the time, but he'd heard someone talking about it in the hall as he passed them.

They had said that a blonde geek had done it.

_Holy crap__, Mia's bad-ass…_

That freshly swallowed bowling ball look was back on her face.


	9. More Tuesday, French

_**More Tuesday, French**_

They were in G & T again, him and Mia, sitting next to each other and playing the knee brushing game as he helped her with carrying over in her Algebra.

He was going to ask her out.

He'd thought of it the night before as he heard Lilly shouting in the other room on the phone to someone about how Mia was _this _and Mia was _that_, and all he could think was that Mia was amazing.

He didn't know exactly when, but he had begun liking Mia…and then it had just spiralled out of control when she began standing up for herself…and _fighting_. He didn't know why that was so hot. It just was.

She was growing up, and he liked what she was growing up into.

It even didn't matter that he was a senior and she was a freshman, or that she was his younger sister's best friend. He liked her.

He was nervous. He started off slow, on a different track. "Congratulations on your handling of the Weinberger Incident, by the way. Heard it was you who Nutty Royale-d her sweater."

Mia smiled as she rubbed out a mistake. "Yeah. Thanks. How'd you hear?"

"It's all over school, how you decimated her in front of Richter."

Mia looked up. "It is?"

He nodded.

"Oh," she murmured, before laughing a little. "I don't know if that's a good or a bad thing. Maybe I won't be able to buy ice-cream anymore."

He liked the way that was her first concern.

He smiled. "Maybe. Your locker is right next to Josh's, isn't it?"

Mia nodded.

"That must be awkward," he said.

"Not really," Mia replied. "Lana seems to be avoiding the area, and Josh never talks to me at all except to say 'Can I get by here?' once in a while." She suddenly changed topics. "Is Lilly still saying mean stuff about me?"

He thought of telling her the whole truth – that Lilly always said mean stuff but didn't necessarily _mean_ it, her emotions just overrode her intelligence sometimes – but decided that if Lilly and Mia were to patch things up again, it would go a lot faster without him telling on Lilly behind her back to her best friend.

They had to deal with, and _solve_, their own friendship problems.

"She's never said mean things about you. She just doesn't understand why you blew up at her like that," he answered her.

Mia gave him a straight look. "Michael, she's always putting me down!"

Was it wrong for him to have an instinctive shiver run up his spine when she used his name?

She continued, oblivious. "I just couldn't take it anymore. I have too many other problems without having friends who aren't supportive of me."

Michael couldn't help but laugh – Mia might have been a little neurotic, but what teenager wasn't? She was pretty happy-go-lucky compared to some people.

"What kind of problems could _you_ have?" He asked light-heartedly.

The sudden look on her face said there was nothing light-hearted about it.

He frowned. "Mia–"

"You know I'm flunking Algebra, and that I have detention for a week, _and_ that I recently woke up to find Mr Gianini in his boxer shorts eating cereal with my mom," she blurted.

That wasn't it – at least not all of it – he knew it, but he didn't press. Especially since the last one seemed like an entirely valid concern, even if Mia's mom could do worse.

"I guess you do have some problems, after all." He smiled, and looked down to see Mia was on the right track with her Algebra.

They continued on, talking and working. Michael was inwardly building up the courage to bring up Saturday, the day of their, hopefully, would-be date. He was thinking maybe a movie and some lunch, and then they could go to the dance together.

His palms began to sweat. He knew it was time.

He silently cleared his throat, before asking, "So, are you grounded?"

He looked up after a moment, since she hadn't said anything, to see she had raised an eyebrow at him.

"You mean for getting detention?" She asked. "No, of course not. My mom is totally on my side. My dad wants to sue the school."

_Three… Two… One…_

"Oh. " He shrugged, though inside he was a tangled web of nerves and something else that was anything but nonchalance. "Well, I was wondering because, if you aren't busy Saturday, I thought maybe we could–"

The door to G & T suddenly opened, Mrs Hill came bustling in with questionnaires to fill out, and Michael knew in that moment that God truly hated him.

He clenched his sweat-slicked hands into fists under the table and resisted beating his head against the desk in frustration.


	10. More Wednesday, French Class

_**More Wednesday, French Class**_

He was already sat down in his usual seat in G & T when she walked in.

A princess. She was a freaking _princess_. He had called her 'happy-go-lucky'. He had guessed that 'she really did have some problems, after all' – yeah, like being a goddamn _princess_.

Jesus Christ.

Mia sat down and Michael continued to stare.

She just smiled at him, pulled out her Algebra notebook, and began talking away like there was nothing wrong. "Hi, Michael. I did all those problems you gave me. But I still don't see why you couldn't just look at the train schedule to find out what time a train travelling at sixty-seven miles per hour will arrive in Fargo, North Dakota, if it leaves Salt Lake City at 7 a.m."

Was she trying to avoid Jumbo in the corner? Perhaps the whole 'princess' thing _really _didn't faze her? Well, it fazed him – how the hell was he ever allowed anywhere near her now, especially in the capacity he _wanted_ to be allowed near her, when she was a princess?

He wasn't – that was the answer. He wasn't allowed anywhere near her, because she was _far _too good for him – no matter his belief in equality.

He felt sick.

Because of this, he decided just to throw Jumbo a packet of peanuts and make him do rings around the circus tent.

"So. Princess of Genovia, huh?" He asked. "Were you ever going to share that little piece of info with the rest of the group, or were we all meant to guess?"

Mia nervously half-smiled. "I was kind of hoping no one would ever find out."

He internally rolled his eyes – _so _like Mia. Though he was annoyed, it still endeared him. She hadn't changed.

"Well, that's obvious. I don't see why, though. It's not like it's a bad thing," he said more softly.

She gawped. "Are you kidding me? Of course it's bad!"

Either she wasn't on the up-and-up, or she wasn't the kind of girl that ever dreamed of wearing a tiara and being worth millions of dollars. Knowing Mia as he did, he guessed it was both.

"Did you _read _the article in today's _Post_, Thermopolis?"

Mia fervently shook her head – which also inadvertently sent a wave of her citrus scent crashing over him, sending his brain into a whirl.

"No way. I'm not going to read that trash. I don't know who this Carol Fernandez thinks she is, but–"

And that's when Lilly _had_ to get involved.

"So, you're not aware that the Crown Prince of Genovia – namely your father – has a total personal worth which, including real estate property and the palace's art collection, is estimated at over three hundred million dollars?" His sister asked.

Judging from the look on Mia's face, she definitely didn't.

Lilly continued. "I wonder how much of that fortune was amassed by taking advantage of the sweat of the common labourer."

That's where Michael had to cut in – if just to shut Lilly up – with the limited knowledge he had of Genovia, but which he had fleshed out a bit using a search engine on the internet earlier.

"Considering that the people of Genovia have traditionally never paid income or property taxes, I would say none of it." He squinted at his sister. "What is _with _you, anyway, Lil?"

He knew she didn't like that name.

She glared – _score_. "Well, if _you _want to tolerate the excesses of the monarchy, you can be my guest, Michael. But I happen to think that it's disgusting, with the world economy in the state it's in today, for anyone to have a total worth of three hundred million dollars…especially someone who never did a day's work for it!"

Sometimes his sister was exceptionally narrow-minded, and it _really _pissed him off.

"Pardon me, Lilly, but it's my understanding that Mia's father works extremely hard for his country." His voice was lofty, but he felt like he was growling. "His father's historic pledge, after Mussolini's forces invaded in 1939, to exercise the rights of sovereignty in accordance with the political and economic interests of neighbouring France, in exchange for military and naval protection in the event of war, might have tied the hands of a lesser politician, but Mia's father has managed to work around that agreement. His efforts have resulted in a nation that has the highest literacy rate in Europe, some of the best educational attainment rates, and the lowest infant mortality, inflation, and unemployment rates in the Western hemisphere."

_Thank you, Google_…

He was exhausted, practically out of breath, but he wouldn't show it. For a second, time stood still – Mia simply stared at him, and…it looked like Lilly was going to back down.

But then, Lilly had never backed down.

"Shut up," Lilly hissed at him, before turning on Mia. "I see they already have you spouting off their populist propaganda like a good little girl."

"_Me_?" Mia asked indignantly. "Michael's the one who–"

"Aw, Lilly, you're just jealous." Michael cut in, smiling thinly at his sister.

She was _so_ transparent.

"I am not!"

He nodded, leaning back in his chair. "Yes, you are. You're jealous because she got her hair cut without consulting you. You're jealous because you stopped talking to her, and she went out and got a new friend." He'd heard all about Tina Hakim '_Blah_-_Blah_' from Lilly in one of her whirlwind rants. "And you're jealous because all this time, Mia's had this secret she didn't tell you."

It was the killing blow. Lilly turned purple with rage.

"Michael, SHUT UP!" She practically yelled.

Boris poked his head out of the supply closet then, but Michael didn't dare take his eyes off of his sister – he wasn't sure how far he'd pushed her.

After some more yelling, Lilly turned back to Michael with a malicious glint in her eye. "Gosh, Michael, you sure are quick to come to Mia's defence all of a sudden. I wonder if maybe it ever occurred to you that your argument, while ostensibly based on logic, might have less intellectual than libidinous roots?"

She was playing dirty. Michael's palms began to sweat and he could feel his ears burning – Mia wasn't stupid, so did she understand what Lilly had just said so…_plainly_?

He didn't even dare look at her.

"Well, what about your persecution of the Hos? Is that rooted in intellectual reasoning? Or is it more an example of vanity run amok?" He asked his sister, pretending she hadn't said _anything_ before.

"That's a circular argument," she scoffed.

Wrong.

"It isn't. It's empirical."

Seeing Lilly's defeated look, he decided to bluntly change the subject and practically go on like there had never been such a long-winded argument at all.

And…well, he really wanted to know the answer to his question, as well as take his chance to repair whatever Lilly might have carelessly destroyed.

He turned to Mia. "So does this guy have to follow you around everywhere from now on?"

He doubted he still had a chance with her, if he ever had one to begin with, but it was good to get a lay of the land – if they _did _get to go out on a date, he wondered whether Mr Armed and Expressionless had to be there too.

"Yes," Mia answered.

His eyebrows shot up. "Really? _Everywhere_?"

Mia playfully rolled her eyes. "Everywhere except the Ladies' Room. Then he waits outside."

He didn't know why he had to ask…but he _had _to. Even with his sister sitting so close and still fuming, and even with Mr A.E. scanning him so intensely. "What if you were to go on a date? Like to the Cultural Diversity Dance this weekend?"

Mia smiled. "That hasn't exactly been an issue, considering that no one's asked me."

Michael opened his mouth, ready to let the words _finally_ roll off of his tongue and not let his nerves stop him…when Boris stumbled out of the closet, releasing rubber cement fumes, and everyone made enough noise to alert Mrs Hill that her unsupervised lesson needed supervising.

Mia had gone back to her Algebra by the time everyone had settled, and he didn't have the courage or the strength to try again.

She looked up at him with those wide, grey eyes. "Are you alright?"

He shook everything off, including his heavy heart, and nodded. "I'm fine, Thermopolis."


	11. Friday, G & T

_**Friday, G & T**_

Josh Richter had asked Mia to the Dance. Mia had said yes. He still couldn't believe it.

He sat back in G & T, watching as Mia and Lilly argued about nothing and everything.

Why did she say yes to _him_, of all people? Why couldn't Mia have just picked up on all the _enormous_ hints Michael had been throwing at her and asked him if he wanted to go out with her, even if it was only to clarify?

Because the answer would have been yes – one thousand _billion _times, yes.

But, of course, Mia was unassuming – if slightly obtuse – and didn't see how much he liked her. _Or_, if she did, she didn't care and didn't want his attentions.

Either way, she was still going to the Dance with Josh Richter and not him.

He sighed and scratched out some lyrics on his notepad. He _would not_ write a song about her…

"Where's he taking you to dinner? The Harley-Davidson Café?" Lilly asked Mia, and followed it by laughing at her own joke.

"No," Mia practically huffed. "Tavern on the Green."

He looked up in shock over the top of his notepad – Tavern on the _freaking_ Green? He had been going to take her to get some dim sum or something on their, practically, imaginary date. He felt like an idiot…

But he also worried. He questioned Josh's motives, sure that it was because Mia was a princess that he asked her to the Dance and not because he truly liked her, and a part of him worried that something could happen to Mia at any time she was out of friendly eyesight.

Michael looked over at Mr A.E. He looked right back, and he didn't seem concerned about Mia's plans – probably because of the Glock beneath his jacket.

Michael still had to ask. "You're going too, right?"

"Oh, yes," he replied, and the threatening tone – most definitely aimed at Josh Richter – was unmistakeable.

Michael knew Mr A–_Lars_ would look after Mia, especially when Michael couldn't.

As if Lars knew what Michael was thinking, Lars sent him a small nod and an _almost_ invisible smile.

Michael looked away back down at his notepad, satisfied…just as Mia laughed at something. The sound hit him square between the eyes, making his body erupt in pleasant tingles, and he realised Mia was like…a tall drink of water on a hot day…


	12. Sunday, October 18

_**Sunday, October 18**_

He didn't know why he had gone, but he had. Perhaps he was feeling hopeful, that maybe Mia would just turn up without Josh and they could have a half-date. _Or_…perhaps he was just a sucker for punishment, because he could see in his mind's eye how the evening would have gone and standing around the different tables he could imagine the different facts he could tell Mia about the displays, he would impress her and she would smile, and he could see her asking if he wanted to dance…

Michael didn't dance…but he wanted to with Mia. Just being that close to her…

He sighed and looked over the Krakatau model.

But Mia wasn't going to be dancing with Michael tonight. She was with _Josh Richter_. Michael realised how wide his masochistic streak was when he realised he still wasn't leaving, even though he knew Mia and Josh were going to be there soon, _together_.

Jennifer from Lab passed him by. "Hey, Michael. Did you _see _what happened out there?"

He just shrugged. He didn't care.

"That Marie girl _totally_ kissed Josh Richter."

He frowned. "Who's Marie?"

Jennifer rolled her eyes. "You know! The _princess_."

Michael's heart _sank_. He had thought the brutal images his mind had conjured had been bad…but actually _hearing_ that they had kissed? No. He had to leave. He had thought he could handle it, and he had been wrong. Screw masochism.

He was just making his way towards the door when Lars came out of nowhere and pressed his palm to Michael's shoulder, halting him.

"Wait. The Princess is coming."

Michael sighed. "Look. I know. I just heard. I don't want to see them together in front of me, okay?"

Lars shook his head. "No. You don't understand."

"Understand what?"

"It was all a publicity stunt for the boy. The Princess isn't stupid."

Michael sighed again. "So, she figured it out?"

Lars nodded.

"Doesn't mean they didn't kiss though, does it?" Michael said, slipping out of reach and stepping towards the door.

"They argued. The Princess locked herself in the bathroom. There will be no date tonight."

Michael froze, one hand outstretched for the door handle.

_There will be no date tonight…_

Images ticked over in Michael's mind and, this time, Josh was nowhere to be seen.

He turned, something filling his chest. "Where is she?"

Lars smiled. "Right here."

Michael turned to see Mia, Lilly and Tina all enter – he had seen the girls earlier but not Mia…and she looked _beautiful, _all wrapped up silk.

He swallowed against the dryness threatening his throat. "Mia–"

"Michael." She smiled. "I didn't know you were coming."

Lilly smiled knowingly at him over Mia's shoulder, and then drifted off towards Boris. Tina flounced away. They were left alone for a moment.

He shrugged, going for nonchalance. "Thought I might as well. The Club boycotted because Principal Gupta wouldn't let us have a table, but I didn't see the point. She was right."

They were waved over to a table covered in rice, with Lilly, Boris, Tina, and some other familiar faces sitting around it.

As they sat on the tabletop, shuffling rice out of the way as they did so, Michael couldn't help but ask, "Are you alright?"

Mia's big grey eyes met his. "Huh?"

He coughed. "You know… Richter?"

"Oh." She smiled softly. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Michael couldn't help but smile back.

Conversation flowed easily, ranging from the cheerleaders' uniformity to _Deep Space Nine_, and Michael realised that it was probably the most he had ever spoken to Mia – even if he did get a little carried away in his argument about replicator coffee.

But he loved it, just sitting so close to her and talking to her while music played in the background–

He recognised the change in tempo before he fully acknowledged it, and before he knew it everyone had left him and Mia alone at the rice table to go slow dance with their respective partners.

Michael wanted to ask her to dance. But he worried whether Mrs Hill would suddenly show up with questionnaires, just to interrupt him for the sake of it, or whether his mouth wouldn't be able to form the right words and he would look like a total idiot.

"Do you think they include man-made materials in the refuse that they use to make stuff for the replicator?" Mia asked him, swinging her long legs back and forth.

Michael swallowed the lump in his throat and tore his eyes away from her skin. "Probably."

He was surprised he had even been able to utter that.

"Hmm," Mia breathed, looking deep in thought.

That was another thing that he liked about Mia – she could take some things so seriously, _really _thinking about them, and it endeared him to her.

He smiled, deciding to give her something else to chew over. "Who's a more effective leader, Captain Kirk or Captain Picard?"

"Picard," Mia snorted. "Of course. Kirk is always off with some moon princess or something."

He was just about to ask her whether, being a princess herself, she would go for Captain Kirk when Mr Gianini came over to them.

"You okay, Mia?" Mr G asked kindly.

Michael thought that he was definitely not the worst man Mia's mom could have chosen.

Mia nodded. "Of course. I'm fine. Don't worry about me, Mr G."

"Glad to hear it." He smiled. "Oh, and, Mia? Based on your latest scores on your practice sheets, you've gone up from an F in Algebra to a D. Congratulations. Keep up the hard work."

Mia gaped for a moment, before turning to Michael and giving him a beaming smile. "Well, you know, Mr G, it was all down to Michael, here. He helped me with my notes and my columns…_and_ my borrowing during subtraction."

Michael felt his ears go bright red. "Really, Mia, I–I didn't do anything… I–It was nothing."

It _was_ nothing. He would do so much more, given half a chance.

Luckily, Mr G didn't hear his inane rambling, due to his chaperoning duties being needed elsewhere, and only Mia was there to witness his embarrassed stuttering. She didn't say anything to make it worse. She just smiled.

As he looked into Mia's bright silver eyes…the music changed and everyone returned.

The group crowded around them, talking loudly, and Michael prayed for another slow song.

His wish was granted. Soft strains of some unknown acoustic melody sounded a minute or two later, and everyone took to the floor.

He asked her before he could chicken out. "Do you want to dance?"

Mia stared at him for a moment…before smiling and nodding.

He took her hand and led her to the dance floor, his heart thumping wildly in his chest in contrast to the music. It wasn't awkward like he had thought it might have been, with fumbling fingers and tentative grasps. In fact, it was almost sweet, and they held each other like they almost belonged there – there, in each others' arms.

He didn't know who had turned him so sappy, either.

But it was all true.

Her hand fit perfectly in his, his wrapping around hers and dwarfing it, and his arm fit snugly around her slim waist, his hand pressed to the warmth in the small of her back.

Mia was tall, but not as tall as him, and he could feel her breath tickling the exposed skin of his neck. He fought the pleasurable goose-bumps that wanted to erupt. But, in doing so, he took a deep breath – a breath which was _all _Mia.

Citrus hit him first, her favourite shampoo, then it was strawberry, her favourite ChapStick…and then it was just pure warmth.

He silently sighed against her hair.

This was what he wanted. He wanted the smiles, the touches…the _proximity_…and maybe – just _maybe_ – one day they would achieve it.

Mia lifted her head and smiled at him brightly, and he knew it wasn't today – the day when she looked up at him with her eyes a stormy grey and her mouth parted with emotion was the day he would take her for his own.

The music faded, and so did the dream.

He stopped moving and softly smiled down at her. "Do you want some Thai iced tea from the Thai Culture table, or maybe some edamame from the Japanese Anime Club's table?"

He knew he sounded too enthusiastic to spend more time with her but he just couldn't care less.

She smiled. "Sure."

The night flew by, dancing to softly whispering music and laughing together over the loud club tunes. It was perfect, and though he had wanted something a little bit different, he couldn't truly fault what he had received.

At the end of the night the group, along with Michael and Mia, all climbed into a stretch limo, sent by Tina's dad, and made their way to his parents'. He couldn't stop watching Mia the whole journey, even while she was on the phone, and he saw Lilly smirking at him from her seat in Boris' lap.

They all made their way into the apartment, thanking his parents as they went – his parents just stood there staring at Michael and Lilly in the way that meant 'We'll be talking about this later.'

Michael didn't care, especially not when he was pressed against Mia on the couch in the living room, and they all had so much fun playing 'End of the World,' which had started out as _Mia_'s game.

Eventually his parents had had enough – his dad came out and sighed, "I have an early appointment in the morning with my t'ai chi instructor. _Please_, go home."

Everyone shuffled out, thanking him once more, which left Mia alone with the Moscovitz family. Even Lars didn't stay, but as Lars was leaving Michael made sure to thank him for what he had given Michael by making him stay at the Dance a little longer.

"You're welcome," the man smiled, adjusting his Glock.

Michael smiled. "Can I have a go on that one day?"

"One day," Lars promised.

They parted with a well-timed high five, and the door shut softly behind Lars as he made his exit.

Michael turned to see Mia standing up the hall, her head poked around the corner – she had a look of curiosity on her face.

"What are you up to, Thermopolis?" He asked, smiling.

She shook her head, as if to clear it. "Nothing. Lilly's in the bathroom."

An idea struck him. "Come with me."

He passed her and had her follow him to his room. His hands were a little shaky as he reached for the door handle, but he knew he wanted this. It was a perfect end to a perfect evening.

Mia entered and he shut the door behind her. "Sit."

Mia sat on the edge of his bed, her eyes wandering the room. Michael opened his closet and pulled out his blue, self-bought, bass guitar.

She raised an eyebrow as he plugged in the amp. "What are you doing?"

He laughed. "What do you think, Mia?"

He loved using her name.

She rolled her eyes at him.

Michael sat next to her and gave his bass a quick tuning. "Now, you have to swear you won't tell anyone about this Mia – just like me not telling Lilly about the lip stick and pantyhose incident. Deal?"

Her eyes were silver and sparkling. "Deal."

So, he began to play, and Mia's eyes were transfixed on his fingers, and then he began to softly _sing_…and Mia's eyes became transfixed to his mouth.

"_Tall drink of water, can't say how much you want her. How long you've tried to stay cool, but she doesn't even see you…_"

He was singing to _her_ about _her_ – somewhere inside of him he hoped that she saw it.

"_Wait for her in the lobby, your knees are getting wobbly. She glides by in her pink dress, towers over all the rest. Hands start to get sweaty, you really think you're ready to take a little walk over there, tell her how much you care…_"

Her eyes stayed on his mouth, and he felt his spine blaze.

"_What will you say, now? Will she make your day, now? She looks this way now, get moving, don't delay now. You think you're ready for your close-up, but she's not China doll make-up or a picture-perfect teacup. She's more real than any girl you've seen…_"

_For you, Mia… All for you…_

"_You're not gonna make it, but this is it, you just can't fake it. She's the girl who makes your heart sing, means more to you than anything. She's a tall drink of water, can't say how much you want her. How long you've tried to stay cool, but she doesn't even see you…_"

His fingers stilled, finished, and he felt like the world had been put right – he had finally told her, without interruption or misunderstanding, exactly how he felt about her.

And it felt good.

She beamed at him and delicately clapped her hands. "Wow, Michael. Seriously, that…was so _amazing_!"

Michael looked into Mia's eyes, and he could see she didn't understand. But it didn't matter, because he _had_ told her and that was what was important.

He had told her he loved her.


	13. Still Monday, October 19, G & T

_**Still Monday, October 19, Gifted and Talented**_

A loud intake of breath roused Michael from his writing of _Crackhead_.

He always knew when Lilly was going to start yelling, because she took in this _long_ breath and then just…went at it.

"Oh, my God! Is there something you haven't told me?" His sister practically screeched.

_Correct_, he thought as he looked up to see who she was talking to.

It was Mia. Lilly was yelling at Mia.

Christ, how he wanted to step in.

That freshly swallowed bowling ball look was on Mia's face and her grey eyes were all wide at being yelled at…and Michael was angry with himself at not being able to fully control his protective thoughts.

One dance and she had him wrapped around her smallest finger…except, he was sure, it had been like that for a while.

Mia suddenly snapped into action, and moved and clicked the mouse of the computer she was sitting at _so fast_ Michael almost didn't see what she was exiting. _Almost_.

He was sure his eyes were as wide as his sister's, who was staring at Mia like she was Jung himself.

Michael dazedly wondered whether he had actually seen those large bubblegum pink letters spelling '_You and Your Pregnancy_'…

"Oh, my God, Mia, why didn't you tell me?" Lilly asked loudly, as Mia began to sink lower and lower in her chair whilst turning redder and redder.

"I'm doing an extra-credit report for Biology," Mia mumbled, her gaze cast down and away from the eyes that Lilly's yelling had drawn.

Michael turned to Lars. Lars nodded and turned to glare at the rest of the class. Everyone immediately turned away.

Michael dragged his gaze back to Mia…and reluctantly slid his eyes down her slim frame.

_She can't be pregnant… She can't…_

He mentally slapped himself. Mia wasn't stupid – if she did have sex she would use protection and, anyway, he was sure he would have heard of her 'Doing It' from his sister.

The thought sickened him.

He'd heard of everything about Mia through Lilly. He dreaded the day that he'd hear about _that _as well.

As Lilly finally lowered her voice and kept asking Mia what was going on, Michael turned back to his latest post for _Crackhead_ and tried to shake the gripping pain in his stomach.

He just hoped she really _was_ writing that report.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Author's note<strong>_: I've been trying _not_ to write these little notes, since I've kind of realised it breaks up the story a little bit, but I just wanted to thank everyone who's reviewed and favourite'd this story (: You've all given me such amazing feedback! So, thank you, again, for being so kind and I hope you enjoy the rest of this fic! I have, approximately, thirteen posts for the second book – including this one – and I hope you won't mind if there's a slight wait between books. It takes me a while to work out what things I should include in Michael's POV, since sometimes he's just mentioned in passing. Proper 'thank you's, disclaimers, and chapter listings will all be posted after the final post of the tenth book (: Thanks again!


	14. Monday, October 19, 11 pm

_**Monday, October 19, 11 p.m.**_

Michael bit his knuckle harder in indecision.

There was Mia, _right there_, with her name on the IM program and '_Online_' written next to it, and Michael couldn't decide whether or not to IM her.

He sighed and tipped his head back, thinking once more about G & T. It had been bothering him all day, and not just the phantom pregnancy part but Mia's general behaviour. When he had finished with his _Crackhead _post he had helped Mia with her Algebra, and she had seemed to be paying even _less _attention than usual.

He'd never seen her so…freaked out before, and it just supported the theory that she might be pregnant.

Michael couldn't take it anymore. He opened up a dialogue box.

_**CracKin**__**g**__: What was with you at school today? It was like you were off in this whole other world or something._

At least he had gotten better at asking her what was wrong with her – it didn't sound _too _accusatory to his ears.

_**FtLouie**__: I don't have the slightest idea what you are talking about. Nothing is wrong with me. I'm totally fine._

He knew whenever she used the 'F'-word that she _wasn't _fine. It was her automatic response to any question about her well-being that she didn't want to answer.

And that little bit of information was one that he _hadn't_ gotten from Lilly, though he was pretty sure his sister knew it anyway.

_**CracKing**__: Well, I got the impression that you didn't hear a word I said about negative slopes._

That was the kind way of putting it – she had been staring off into the distance for most of their time together. It kind of hurt him too, since it was the _only_ time they spent together alone…and she didn't even bother brushing his knee or anything.

He scowled as he waited for her response. It was a few minutes before it came.

_**FtLouie**__: I heard everything you said about negative slopes. Given slope m, +y-intercept (O,b) equation y+mx+b Slope-intercept_.

"Holy shit."

He typed back fast.

_**CracKing**__: WHAT?_

Where the hell had she gotten _that _from? Except…he knew.

Michael grabbed his old Algebra textbook from the other side of his desk and flipped to the very last page, and there, printed beneath time-passing Algebra-inspired lyrics, was the exact same equation.

He smirked to himself – _nice try, Mia…_

_**FtLouie**__: Isn't that right?_

Michael ignored her question.

_**CracKing**__: Did you copy that out of the back of the book?_

Michael smiled to himself as he banished the Algebra book back to the other side of his desk and got comfy in his chair once more, waiting for her anticipated reply.

It never came.


	15. Friday, October 23, Algebra

_**Friday, October 23, Algebra**_

When the limo had swung around that corner and the door had opened before Lars could get out and open it himself…Michael knew Mia was better.

She had smiled up at him like she was made of sunlight, her eyes twinkling, and his heart had stuttered in his chest.

He immediately thought back to the e-card he had made for her, with the animated dancing cat and the 'Get well soon' banner…and the sign-off he had written.

At the time, he hadn't thought anything of it – she was ill, he was worried, and…well, _he_ knew he loved her. He just wasn't sure how Mia took it – his '_Love, Michael_' – especially with her unusual way of looking at things.

He might have tried to show her how much he liked her before, but he had never planned on actually telling her he _loved_ her.

But as Lilly pushed him out of the way and clambered into the limo, past the smiling Mia, he knew that she hadn't taken it in the way he thought she might have.

"_Come on, Michael_," Lilly groaned.

He slid into the limo and Lars shut the door behind him.

Mia smiled. "Hello, Michael."

She was still oblivious. It was in her eyes.

A part of him sighed in dejection while another sighed in relief. He was so torn up over her.

"Hey, Mia," Michael replied.

"I watched so many re-runs while I was sick," she said. "_Buffy_ was on, too."

He smiled genuinely as she drummed up a conversation. "Oh, yeah? Which episode? I must've missed it…"

It went that way all the way to school, and as Lilly split from them to meet Boris, Michael found he was walking Mia to her locker.

He was casual, genuinely interested in what she was saying and replying to her thoughts about Seth Green's part in _Buffy_, but inside…he was wondering what he had to do to walk her to her locker every day, and how it made butterflies erupt in his stomach just to spend that little bit longer with her.


	16. Friday, October 23, G & T

_**Friday, October 23, G & T**_

Michael had been reasonably happy sitting there, typing away on his laptop and designing a new layout for _Crackhead_…until Boris Pelkowski began tuning his violin and proceeded to play the _loudest_ he could.

Michael already had a headache from over-thinking things with Mia and from a quick Computer Club meeting, he didn't need Bartok being played _directly in his face_.

Boris was locked up in the supply closet quickly, but not quick enough to stop Michael's head from pounding.

"I'm just going to the nurse's office," he muttered to Lilly and Mia as they carried on talking about some kind of mail, closing his laptop and exiting the room as fast as possible.

It didn't take him long to get there and he found Judith Gershner when he did. She was standing outside the closed nurse's door, leaning on the doorframe, and she looked up through her black curls as he came closer.

Her face cracked in two with the smile she gave him. "Hey, Michael. What are you doing here?"

_She'__s kind of pretty_, he reluctantly thought, _especially when she smiles_… But he knew he could only ever see her as the Computer Club president, anything more felt kind of…wrong.

He gave her a polite smile back and gently tapped his forehead. "Violin damage."

She screwed her face up in confusion. "Huh?"

Michael just shook his head. "Don't worry about it. I just need some aspirin."

"Oh! Well, I have something like it–" Judith began.

She was cut short by the door to the nurse's office swinging open and Leon McNamara coming out clutching a bandaged hand.

Michael was kind of glad she'd been interrupted. He was a bit wary about taking something off of her.

Judith smiled at Michael. "Just a little lab accident. I need to be more careful."

Judging from Leon's scowl, he agreed.

"See you at the next Club meeting," she said and flounced away with Leon trailing behind.

Michael turned and poked his head into the nurse's office. Nurse Burns sat at her desk, writing down some notes, and she turned at Michael's polite cough.

"Hi, Nurse Burns," he murmured. "I was wondering if you have any aspirin."

He resisted a wince. He knew any kind of drugs or medicine being handed out was against school policy.

"I have some, but you can't have any. Drug code," she replied, turning back to her paperwork.

He rolled his eyes, wincing at the stabbing pain it created, and trudged back to G & T.

Lilly and Mia looked up at him when he re-entered. Boris was still playing, though not as loudly.

Lilly raised an eyebrow at him. "You okay?"

Michael sighed and took up his seat. "She wouldn't give me any aspirin. It would've been a violation of the school drug code. I thought she might have forgotten."

"Nurse Burns? Forget? She's as tough as they come," his sister snorted.

He just nodded and palmed his throbbing temple.

"Michael," Mia murmured, drawing his gaze as she dug into her bag. "I have something."

She pulled out a small bottle of codeine cough syrup and offered it to him.

He didn't even think twice, taking it and using the dropper to put a dose on his tongue.

Michael handed it back with an appreciative smile. "Thanks, Mia."

"You're welcome."

Michael didn't even bother to wonder why he had taken Mia up on her offer of medicine and not Judith.


	17. Sunday, October 25, 2am, Lilly's Bedroom

_**Sunday, October 25, 2 a.m., Lilly's Bedroom**_

Michael had innocently been walking from the kitchen to his bedroom with a new bag of chips when he heard it. It sounded like an earthy, echoing _thud_, and memories span through his mind of the times he used to drop–

"_Christ_."

He dropped the bag of Cheetos to the hallway floor and ran towards Lilly's room, where girlish giggles and cheers could be heard.

Michael threw open the door and his eyes landed on Mia, leaning out of Lilly's bedroom window.

He immediately reached for her and pulled her to the floor. "Get down!"

Lilly and her friends all ducked around them, and Michael tried not to think of how his arms were tightly wrapped around Mia – she was all soft, and warm, and–

"Are you guys stupid, or what?" He ground out, ignoring Mia and her soft, warm– "Don't you know, besides the fact that it's a good way to kill someone, it's also against the law to drop things out the window in New York City?"

He let his hands drop from Mia's waist and quickly unwound his arms at the suspicious look Tina was giving him.

Lilly just snorted at him. "Oh, Michael. Grow up. It was just a common garden vegetable."

His sister was so _stupid_ sometimes.

"I'm serious," he practically growled. "If anyone saw Mia do that just now, she could be arrested."

Mia went white beside him.

"No, she couldn't," Lily shot back. "She's a minor."

Michael resisted rolling his eyes. "She could still go to juvenile court." He finally noticed the video camera. "You better not be planning on airing that footage on your show."

"I most certainly am."

Michael just _barely_ resisted slinging a few choice curses at her. "Well, you better edit out the parts that show Mia's face."

"No way."

"Lilly." He was _really _losing his patience. "Everybody knows who Mia is. If you air that segment, it will be all over the news that the Princess of Genovia was caught on tape dropping projectiles out the window of her friend's high-rise apartment." He narrowed his eyes menacingly. "Get a clue, will you?"

Lilly's eyes widened and it seemed like she finally got the picture. All of the girls looked as if they'd borrowed a bowling ball or two off Mia and swallowed them.

Michael shuffled away from Mia, who was all-too-tempting with her rumpled look and mussed golden hair. His hands felt like they were burning from the intimate contact they'd had with her body.

When they had danced there had been barriers, the dress having bones and a corset, but right then…Mia had been easy to feel.

Michael resisted a shiver, and was brought back into the moment by Tina muttering, "Lilly, Michael's right. We better edit that part out. Mia doesn't need any more publicity than she has already."

Lilly's look said that she knew Tina was right but she didn't want to admit that in front of Michael. She jutted out her chin and stomped over to the window.

Michael leapt forward once more – this time saving his sister. She grunted as he pulled her back from the open window, where he could hear people complaining loudly on the street below.

_If anyone else tries to look out, I'm not saving their skin too…_

"Rule number one," he sighed. "If you insist on dropping something out of the window, never, ever check to see if anybody is standing down there, looking up. They will see you look out and figure out what apartment you are in. Then you will be blamed for dropping whatever it was. Because no one but the guilty party would be looking out the window under such circumstances."

Michael released his sister and stepped back. He'd said too much. Lilly's eyes were narrowed in suspicion.

"Wow, Michael," someone breathed behind him. "You sound like you've done this before."

He didn't bother turning around to see who it was, his eyes flickering to Mia – she looked a little better, a little less pale, and she was looking up at him in awe. It made his stomach erupt with butterflies.

"Let's just say," he murmured, "I used to have a very keen interest in experimenting with the earth's gravitational pull."

Understatement.

He left them to their girly night in and retrieved his Cheetos. His mom called out to him as he was just about to shut his bedroom door.

"Michael? There were loud noises. What was it? Someone's shouting about vegetables downstairs."

He smiled to himself, thinking how it had been _Mia_ to cause so much of a commotion with just one vegetable – a girl after his own heart.

"Don't know, Mom."


	18. Monday, October 26, Bio

_**Monday, October 26, Bio.**_

Michael had innocently been walking with his sister and Mia from G & T, talking about some cut scenes from _Star Wars_ and surreptitiously inhaling Mia's citrusy scent, when Weinberger struck.

Lana strutted up to him, flicking back her blonde bangs and swishing her short skirt, and he found he was surprisingly unaffected. She just looked stupid to him, with too much lip gloss and eye-shadow, and Michael wondered at the fact that Mia's scent could send him spinning, yet the 'hottest girl in school' did absolutely nothing for him.

Looking back, he realised he should have taken his head out of his ass and realised, by the twinkle in Lana's eye, that she had something up her sleeve to strike him with. Maybe he could have stopped her…

Instead, he just blankly watched as Lana raised two of her perfectly manicured fingers up and shook them at him…and Mia.

"Are you two going out?"

The question roused him like a sucker punch to the gut.

His thoughts raced, his skin heated, and he was pretty sure his ears just burst into flames – _big _flames.

Mia didn't know how he felt, and he was pretty sure she wouldn't appreciate anything coming out in front of all the people who were stopping in their tracks and staring at them both.

Michael had _certainly_ imagined it differently.

Lana's friends joined her, all staring at him and Mia, and he realised it hadn't actually been even three seconds since she'd asked her dooming question.

And then Lilly joined in.

"As if!" She laughed loudly.

Michael felt himself turn _even redder_ – _oh, Jesus…_

He couldn't even risk a look at Mia for fear of curling up in a ball and slowly dying from acute embarrassment.

Lana and her friends all cackled at Lilly's answer, before striding away and sending the crowd that had gathered around them skittering to the wayside by using their pointy elbows as weapons.

Everyone slowly dissipated.

"I'm…going then," Mia muttered, and scurried away before Michael could even turn to her.

He ran a frustrated hand over his face and through his hair, tugging it roughly as he turned to his smugly-smiling sister.

"_You_…" He didn't even know how to finish that.

Lilly just shrugged. "Either you get on with it, or I make your life hell."

She walked away to her class, and Michael slumped against the wall in shock.

He had assumed she'd known about his…_feelings_ for Mia, but she was going to push him? Lilly _wanted_ him to date Mia?

Michael looked up the corridor after Mia…and found himself devising a plan. God help him.


	19. Later On Monday, 26

_**Later on Monday**_

He was sat at his computer, contemplating whether or not to go through with his idea.

He had just finished watching Mia on T.V. and, if possible, she looked even more beautiful than usual. Seeing her like that had spurred him on, and it was getting harder and harder for him to sit back and watch her grow up into someone he wanted so badly.

Michael was torn. One half of him wanted to be with Mia, while the other half just wanted to crawl under a rock and die in case she shot him down completely.

He shook off his insecurities and went online, Lilly's heavily-veiled blessing still ringing in his ears as the cursor hovered over Mia's name.

_Do it…_

_**CracKing**_: _Hey. Just saw you on TV. You were good._

He wasn't good at segues, and he knew it. Though it sounded like he was starting a simple conversation he knew sooner or later he'd just ask her out. Bluntly.

_**FtLouie**__: What are you talking about? I made a complete and utter ass of myself. And what about Mrs Hill? They're probably going to fire her now._

Michael couldn't find the strength to argue with that – Mia had mentioned a couple of eyebrow-raisers but nothing anywhere near as bad as she obviously thought, and considering _how much worse _it could have been… Thinking that being quick to answer was better than being correct, he decided on a different reply.

_**CracKing**__: Well, at least you told the truth._

Michael facepalmed as soon as he'd hit 'enter'. He knew that wasn't going to help Mia in the least.

_**FtLouie**__: But all these people are mad at me now! Lilly's furious!_

He rolled his eyes as he thought of Lilly's earlier selfish rant about her show, his sister not even sparing a second's thought for Mia's obvious discomfort in the interview. Sometimes Lilly was just…obtuse. And very, very envious.

_**CracKing**__: She's just jealous because you had more people watching you in that one fifteen minute segment than all the people who've ever watched all of her shows put together._

_**FtLouie**__: No, that's not why. She thinks I've betrayed our generation, or something, by revealing that cliques exist at Albert Einstein High School._

Michael laughed, loudly, hoping Lilly could hear him from her room. What was all this garbage she'd been reeling off to Mia? Not that Mia wasn't smart enough to see through the crap, but there had _always _been cliques and there _always_ would be – she hadn't exactly unveiled a scandal.

Lilly had probably been trying to deflect, taking away the attention from her and making Mia feel bad about something that didn't matter while Lilly licked her wounds in private. Just _occasionally_, Lilly was a very bad friend – even if she did really care about Mia.

He decided not to rat on his sister and just nudge Mia towards a different realisation.

_**CracKing**__: Well, that, and the fact that you claimed you don't belong to any of them._

_**FtLouie**__: Well, I don't._

He smiled, tapping out his reply and feeling a sense of affection towards Mia's fierce streak – where other people wanted to belong, Mia just wanted to be herself.

God, he loved her.

_**CracKing**__: Yes, you do. Lilly likes to think you belong to the exclusive and highly selective Lilly Moscovitz clique. Only you neglected to mention this, and that has upset her._

True, and just a _hint_ towards Lilly's soft side so his sister wouldn't kill him for telling Mia about its existence. Lilly liked to put up a good front.

_**FtLouie**__: Really? Did she say that?_

_**CracKing**__: She didn't say it, but she's my sister. I know the way she thinks._

Also true.

He wondered if it was mutual. Mia's reply stopped his train of thought.

_**FtLouie**__: Maybe. I don't know, Michael._

She was tired. He could tell, even through a computer screen.

_**CracKing**__: Look, are you all right? You were a mess at school today…although now it's clear why. That's pretty cool about your mom and Mr Gianini. You must be excited._

_**FtLouie**__: I guess so. I mean, it's kind of embarrassing. But at least this time my mom's getting married, like a normal person._

Embarrassing? Embarrassing was having people think that _Mia_ was pregnant – which, incidentally, Michael was glad hadn't been the case after seeing Mia on that website. _Really _glad. The whole idea of some other guy even _thinking_ about–

He snapped a No.2 pencil he hadn't realised he'd been holding.

Flicking the broken yellow pieces to the edge of his desk, Michael rolled his eyes at Mia's ideals. You didn't have to be married to be normal, and it was kind of frustrating that Mia thought that…even if Michael loved that Mia held her own opinions and held fast on them. She was an old soul – one _hell _of an old soul – and for someone who embraced change and enjoyed trying different things from all walks of life like she did, she could really spout some heavy morals.

He decided to ignore that part of her reply and focus on something far more important – that being the fact that soon enough Mia would have her Algebra teacher at home full-time. Michael was obsolete as a tutor.

He tried not to feel too bad about it…and failed miserably.

"No more bumping knees," he muttered, throwing his head back and letting out a long sigh…before finally writing out a reply.

_**CracKing**__: Now you won't need my help with your Algebra homework any more. You'll have your own personal tutor right there at home._

He scowled at his own words as they sent – _way to make yourself sound so replaceable…_

It took a minute or two for Mia to reply, but when she did it was completely worth the wait.

_**FtLouie**__: Well, I don't know. I mean, he's going to be awfully busy for a while, moving in, and there'll be the baby and everything._

She still wanted him. He just barely resisted a fist-pump.

_**CracKing**__: God. A baby. I can't believe it. No wonder you were wigging out so badly today._

_**FtLouie**__: Yeah, I really was. Wigging out, I mean._

And, like the masochist he was, he just had to mention the thing that had wigged _him _out.

_**CracKing**__: And what about that thing this afternoon with Lana? That couldn't have helped much. Though it was pretty funny, her thinking we were going out, huh?_

Michael let out a low groan and fisted his hair. Why did he have to say _that_? Out of everything he could have said, why did he have to say _that_?

_Masochist…masochist…masochist…_

There were two options. Mia could agree with him, thus making a future relationship completely out of the question…or she could give him hope. Just a little.

_**FtLouie**__: Yeah, she's such a headcase. I guess it's never occurred to her that two people of the opposite sex can just be friends, with no romantic involvement._

There it was. _Hope_.

She hadn't said that the thought of being with him repulsed her, or that nothing was going to happen between them. Sure, she'd labelled them as 'just friends' but that meant nothing to Michael – as a man of science he knew change occurred around the world every second. Just because they were friends _now _didn't mean they couldn't be more in the future.

He absently wondered when he'd gotten so sucked into the conversation that he'd forgotten to ask her out. Not that it was going to be a proper date, but that didn't mean it couldn't _change_. _Rocky Horror_ was just a stepping stone to something more.

_**CracKing**__: Yeah. Listen, what are you doing Saturday night?_

_Bad segue…but, please, say nothing…_

_**FtLouie**__: I don't know. Why?_

Almost as good.

_**CracKing**__: Because it's Halloween, you know. I thought a bunch of us could get together and go see The Rocky Horror Picture Show at the Village Cinema…_

Mia took a good few minutes to reply, and Michael had to push down the anxiety rising in his gut.

_**FtLouie**__: Can I get back to you? I may have a family commitment that evening._

"Crap."

_**CracKing**__: Sure. Just let me know. Well, see you tomorrow._

Why did he feel so sick when she hadn't even said 'no'? Maybe it was because her 'family commitment' sounded like a flimsy excuse and a selfish part of him just wanted her to agree without hesitation.

Then it hit him. Mia was a _princess_. Of course she had 'family commitments'. Jesus Christ, he felt like such an idiot.

_**FtLouie**__: Yeah. I can't wait._

Her sarcasm was a perfect distraction. He smiled.

_**CracKing**__: Don't worry. You were telling the truth. You can't get in trouble for telling the truth._

Then why couldn't he tell her _his _truth?


	20. Tues, Oct 27, Principal Gupta's Office

_**Tuesday, October 27, Principal Gupta's Office**_

He'd been waiting for the limo to turn the corner of the street for what felt like forever, but was probably only a few minutes.

Michael knew that time moving slowly was just an illusion, since every day he felt more and more eager to see Mia, and when he wasn't with her everything just seemed to…_drag_. Badly.

Lilly suddenly stormed out of the building, knocking Michael's backpack off of his shoulder as she pushed past, just as Mia's black limo appeared. She waited quietly, radiating cool hostility, as he looked on, slinging his backpack back into place.

She was, simply, nuts, and unlikely to 'forgive' Mia anytime soon – even though Michael couldn't really see that Mia had done anything wrong. But in Lillyland, Mia's name seemed to be synonymous with 'traitor'.

Michael just shook his head at the back of Lilly's and shrugged apologetically when Lars didn't receive thanks from Lilly for him opening the limo door to her.

Lars rolled his eyes at Michael. Michael just nodded back – _one of _those _days_…

The ride was quiet, Mia only speaking to him occasionally since they were both receiving the cold shoulder from Lilly, and it made everything a little bit awkward. But after a few minutes Mia talked more, ignoring Lilly's sulking shape next to her, and Michael found it…more than pleasant.

It had been what he'd wanted for a long time – a little bit of Mia for his very own. And, right then, Lilly putting her friendship with Mia on hiatus gave him that piece.

"Do you want me to go over your Algebra homework?" He asked, sounding a little too hopeful even to his own ears.

Mia just smiled her amazing smile and dragged her notebook out from her bag. "Sure. Thanks."

"No problem."

And it was all done right. Every equation was balanced and written out neatly, not to mention that the products were all completely correct – Mia was getting better and better.

Michael smiled at her proudly and handed the book back, knowing they only had a couple more minutes before they arrived at school.

"Well done, Mia. They're all correct."

She beamed at him, internally bowling him over and sending his heart spinning off to somewhere else. "Thanks."

He didn't miss the spark that shot up his arm when her fingers touched his, taking her notebook back, either.

Lilly's presence wasn't missed.


	21. Tuesday, October 27, G & T

_**Tuesday, October 27, G & T**_

Boris was playing too loudly for Michael to think, and he was sorely tempted to grab his violin and–

"Can I read it?"

He turned to see Mia watching Lilly scribble in her tiny journalist's notepad on the other side of the table.

He discreetly rolled his eyes.

Lilly was writing a 'book'. Yeah, that wasn't going to happen.

His sister may have been smart, but focused she was not – the other day it was all about some tiny family-run store about to be closed down by 'the man;' today it was all about her book and how it was going to "open up the average American's eyes to the disgusting truth."

"No," Lilly practically growled back at Mia.

Michael frowned as he went back to his book of lyrics that he'd been compiling, hating the way he couldn't really step in for Mia when he wanted to.

"Can I read just one page?"

Michael smiled behind his hand as he looked back up at Mia and his sister – _this is going to be good…_

Lilly was turning purple. "No."

"Just one sentence?"

"No."

Mia opened her mouth again and Lilly looked like she was going to snap her No. 2 pencil.

Michael stepped in. "She wouldn't let me read it either."

Mia's grey eyes swung over to him and he resisted the all-too-familiar pleasant shiver that wanted to shimmy up his spine.

"Really? Even though you offered to publish it on _Crackhead_?"

He nodded, thinking back to their quick exchange when Mia had first sat down and told him what had happened at lunch.

In return, he had told her about overhearing Lilly's conversation with Boris and how, afterward, he had offered to give his sister the platform she obviously needed. Lilly had proceeded to join them then at the table and let Mia know, in no uncertain terms, that Michael's e-zine wasn't good enough for her writing.

Mia suddenly turned back to Lilly. "Am I in it? Your book? Am I in it?"

Lilly's face, which had calmed from its previous shade of purple, contorted and her mouth opened wide for what Michael knew was going to be a yell.

"If people don't stop bothering me about my book, I'm going to fling myself off the top of the school water tower!"

Mrs Hill sent a glare to their table that clearly warned them they were on thin enough ice already, and that they didn't want her coming along to crack it.

Michael went back to his lyrics, casually eyeing Mia's put-out frown from the corner of his eye.

She immediately buried her nose in her journal.

He resisted a smile.


	22. Wednesday, October 28, English

_**Wednesday, October 28, English**_

Michael hadn't been expecting Mia to have someone else with her in the limo when it pulled up for him and Lilly. And he certainly hadn't been expecting the other person inside the limo to be quite so…

"Who's _this_?" Lilly gawped as she ducked into the limo, Lars holding open the door for them.

The blonde guy obviously had muscles, and Michael felt a twitching erupt at the corner of his left eye. He named that twitch Envy and slid into his seat opposite the blue-eyed–

"This is Hank." Mia smiled.

Michael didn't like the way _Hank _beamed at her saying his name, or the way his flannel shirt was open at the top and it showed so much of his chest.

He resisted a scowl.

Lilly brushed off her Pop Tart remnants onto Michael and slid forward in her seat next to him to hold a hand out to Hank.

"Ma'am," he drawled, taking her hand.

Lilly practically swooned.

"He's my cousin."

Mia's words were like a bucket of ice-cold _shame_. He was jealous over a _cousin_.

_Christ…_

As Michael slipped into a punishing loop of self-reprimands, Lilly tittered away girlishly to Hank who just smiled and listened politely.

Mia's eyes finally met Michael's and she smiled at him, rolling those grey orbs he loved so much and making a face at his enthralled sister.

He couldn't help but grin back.


	23. Wednesday, October 28, G & T

_**Wednesday, October 28, G & T**_

He couldn't help but wonder if Mia's freshly swallowed bowling ball look would stay on her face for the rest of the day.

She was pale, wide-eyed, tapping her short and shiny fingernails in a frantic rhythm on the desk.

"You worry too much."

Her head snapped to him at his words and he wondered whether she was about to be sick – she certainly _looked_ like she was getting ready to toss her cookies.

"Do you need to see Nurse Burns?" He asked.

Mia just shook her head and went back to her tapping.

Michael sighed. Even ignoring his earlier jealousy, he couldn't see why being rid of Hank for a few hours was a bad thing – Mia obviously disliked the attention he brought her, and though they were family he could see they weren't close.

But then, he supposed, her worry was all because she had been given a responsibility and she'd failed in it. He knew Mia too well, and definitely well enough to know she was imagining all the worst possibilities of where Hank and Lilly could be.

"He could get lost," Mia suddenly muttered, and Michael shifted towards her with a frown.

Was she-?

"He could get lost or hurt…or _mugged_…"

She was letting him in…and he had absolutely no idea what to do about it.

"I'm sure he's fine."

Mia gulped. "What if he's not? It'll be my fault…not to mention I'll be _so screwed_."

He smiled, purposefully bumping his knee against hers. She looked up at that, eyes dark.

He swallowed against his instinct to touch her, to take in her citrus scent…

"He's with Lilly."

"But-"

He quickly cut off Mia's reply. "He's_ definitely_ with Lilly – she's not stupid enough to let him get lost or anything, not to mention the way she was glued to his side."

Mia looked a little calmer at that – she knew it was true – and she slipped from the truly terrified stage of panic to the slightly mollified and completely ridiculous.

"What if Lilly wanted to show him the subway and he fell onto the track?"

Michael wanted to laugh and he only just managed to rein the noise in. A grin escaped though.

Mia gasped at his expression. "This isn't funny!"

He couldn't wave away his smile and Mia got more and more irritated.

"For all we know, Lilly and Hank could have been kidnapped by Libyan terrorists!"

He had to snigger at that. "What?"

Mia looked indignant. "It's possible."

Michael nodded, calming his amusement. "And so is them going to see an afternoon showing at the Sony Imax."

Mia just huffed out a breath and began to worry her thumbnail with her teeth.

Michael felt sorry for Boris that Lilly was screwing him around, but, _really_, his only concern was that Lilly's thoughtlessness was messing with Mia.

He watched her bite at her nail and figured the best way to distract her was to talk about it some more.

"What about the Russians? Wouldn't they want to get in on the action?"

Mia smiled, ever so slightly.


	24. Thursday, October 29, G & T

_**Thursday, October 29, G & T**_

He sat back and watched as Boris furiously tapped away at his laptop.

Michael had given Boris the disc for _Decapitate the Backstreet Boy_ as soon as the virtuoso had stepped into G & T and made to open up his violin case. No one wanted to hear anymore Mahler, and Michael had stepped in with a way to keep Boris busy _and_ to vent his frustration.

"Nice," Michael commented as Boris slung a pixelated machete at Justin Timberlake's head.

Boris just grunted, firing all the knives he had at JT's crotch.

Michael gave a low whistle at Boris' anger and turned to Mia, who was watching the game with obvious awe.

He leaned in to murmur in her ear, arms crossed over his chest and hands tucked in so they weren't tempted to touch her short golden hair – it was looking particularly soft, and he'd been itching to run his fingers through it all morning.

"There's only a few more levels," he said quietly, ignoring her dizzying scent with the greatest of difficulty. "He's really getting through them."

Mia hummed in response, and he leaned back to see her eyes looking a little glazed. He smirked at the thought that he could have done that to her.

"Your game's great, by the way," she said softly, once her eyes had refocused on Justin Jeffre getting practically disembowelled. "Life-like."

He nodded, angling his head and looking at the graphics a little more closely – they could've been better, but then he always considered himself a perfectionist. "I got a B for it in computer class."

Mia's eyebrows went up. "Only a B?"

"Apparently it isn't violent enough for today's market." Michael smiled. "Want to re-grade me, Thermopolis?"

"A." She smirked.

"No plus?"

She laughed. He loved her laugh.

Boris began smashing his way through the rest of the game as Mia looked on thoughtfully, and Michael absently wondered whether she might…well, appreciate him making _her_ something. Something that was _just_ for her…

He blew off the passing thought and watched Boris riddle 112 with lead.


	25. Friday, October 30, French

_**Friday, October 30, French**_

He was trying to write some code for a program that the Computer Club had come up with – and had subsequently dropped on him – but he kept getting distracted by Lilly and Mia's conversation.

Well, their conversation, and the fact that when Mia got into a heated debate, or really any kind of argument, she was kind of…hot.

He was distracted once more by Mia's cute little frown. "Lilly, I thought you found the modelling industry as a whole sexist and racist and belittling to the human race.

Lilly's frown in response wasn't so little or so cute. "So? What's your point?"

"Well, according to Hank, you helped him realise his dream of becoming a you-know-what. A model."

Michael blatantly rolled his eyes as he saw his sister gearing up for a long-winded speech about helping the human race or some other garbage she constantly spewed as excuses for showing off or doing whatever she damn well liked.

"Mia, when I recognise a human soul crying out for self-actualisation, I am powerless to stop myself. I must do what I can to see that that person's dream is realised."

By the time she was finished one of her hands was over her heart and Michael considered when Lilly had become so overly dramatic. He decided that she had just always been.

Mia looked adorably confused, and Michael wondered when someone had limited his vocabulary to 'cute' and 'adorable'.

"Um, Lilly, I hadn't noticed that you had a real foothold in the modelling industry."

"I don't." Lilly replied, shrugging at Mia. "I merely taught your cousin how to make the most of his God-given talents. Some simple lessons in elocution and fashion and he was well on his way to landing that contract with Elite."

Not to mention, Michael thought, Lilly stripped Hank down to only a pair of tighty-whities.

"Well, why did it have to be such a big secret?" Mia asked.

His sister gave a sigh. "Do you have any idea how fragile the male ego is?"

"Hey!"

They both turned to him at his outburst for guys everywhere.

Lilly gave him an insincere smile. "I'm sorry, but it's true. Hank's self-esteem had already been reduced to nothing thanks to Amber, Corn Queen of Versailles County. I couldn't allow any negative comments to ruin what little self-confidence he had left. You know how fatalistic boys can be."

"Hey!"

He was ignored this time, and he tried not to sulk behind his keyboard.

Lilly continued. "It was vital that Hank be allowed to pursue his dream without the slightest fatalistic influence. Otherwise, I knew, he didn't stand a chance. "

Cue the hand to her heart.

"And so I kept our plan secret from even those I most cared about. Any one of you, without consciously meaning to, might have torpedoed Hank's chances with the most casual of comments."

Lilly made it seem like it was all a carefully constructed plan, when Michael was sure she just didn't want anyone to interfere for more selfish reasons.

"Come on," Mia sighed. "We'd have been supportive."

Obviously realising her speech had done little to Mia, she threw her arms out onto the desk and looked her straight in the eye.

"Mia, think about it. If Hank had said to you, 'Mia, I want to be a model,' what would you have done? Come on. You would have laughed."

Michael was just about to step in and defend Mia, telling Lilly that there was no way of knowing what Mia may or may not have done, when Mia stepped up herself in indignation.

"No, I wouldn't have."

But Lilly was stubborn. "Yes, you would have. Because to you, Hank is your whiny, allergy-prone cousin from the Boondocks, who doesn't even know what a bagel is. But I, you see, was able to look beyond that, to the man Hank had the potential to become…"

Michael cut in with a derisory expression. "Yeah, a man who is destined to have his own pin-up calendar."

There was nothing wrong with it if that was what Hank aspired to, but Lilly couldn't make it out to be some crusade when really all she'd done was shoved him into a pair of tiny underwear and given him to Elite to maul.

"You, Michael," his sister sniffed, "are just jealous."

He gave a sarcastic half-snort. "Oh, yeah. I've always wanted a big picture of myself in my underwear hanging up in Times Square."

He only just caught the glazed look in Mia's eye before continuing.

"You know, Lil, I highly doubt Mom and Dad are going to be so impressed by your tremendous act of charity that they're going to overlook the fact that you skipped school to do it. Especially when they find out you've gotten detention next week because of it."

Lilly sighed, and it was another hand–on–heart moment. "The most eleemosynary are often martyred."

Michael rolled his eyes and went back to writing out code for the stupid enrolment program, only just glimpsing Mia's curious look towards him…something that looked a lot like expectation.

He puzzled over it for the rest of the day.


	26. Sunday, November 1, 2 pm

_**Sunday, November 1, 2 p.m.**_

Kenny was talking his ear off about something – _clearly_ excited – but all Michael could think of, as he stood there covered in fake blood and dressed in army fatigues with plastic intestines spilling out of his shirt, was that Mia hadn't come.

"So, I've been e-mailing her for a while…" Kenny continued.

Michael hummed at the, presumably, correct points, but it seemed like Kenny was talking to himself more than Michael because he didn't seem to sense his obvious disinterest.

And then Lilly's voice suddenly rang out. "Oh, my God! You came! You came!"

Michael whirled around to see a limo pull away from the sidewalk, on which stood Lars looking very 007 and Mia looking…

His brain just…malfunctioned.

She was… She was… She was pink – very pink – but a pretty kind of pink… When did someone steal every ounce of the considerable coherency he usually possessed? He swore his IQ dropped twenty points every time he was around Mia. Especially when she looked so…

Lilly discreetly elbowed him and he suddenly picked something to say out of thin air – even while his brain was still so in a state of '_uh_…'

"Quick." He gestured with a bloodstained hand. "Get in line. I got two extra tickets just in case you ended up making it after all."

Everyone shuffled around and there was some complaining further back, but Michael's eyes were glued to Mia and they were taking in every inch of the beautiful girl she was.

Beautiful, that was the right word – the word he'd been looking for for a long time, it seemed.

"Where's Hank?" He heard Lilly ask.

Mia twirled a plastic wand in her hands. "He couldn't make it."

Her lips were kind of shiny with something, like lip gloss only less sticky-looking, and they made her mouth look kind of…well, he wasn't sure of the word but he felt the effect she had on him fizzing deep in his stomach, fluttering around in his heart, and pinging through his head.

And her eyes… Her grey eyes were more silver right then, sparkling and pretty and…

Oh, God. He was in so deep.

Boris made some comment and Lilly frowned, before pointing at Mia's dress and asking, "What are you supposed to be?"

Michael inwardly clicked his fingers in an eureka moment – Mia's dress was just like Billie Burke's in _The Wizard of Oz_.

"Duh." Mia frowned at Lilly. "I'm Glinda the Good Witch."

"I knew that," Michael cut in, sounding rather breathless even to his own ears. "You look really…" _…beautiful_. "You look really…" _…beautiful_.

_Say it… Say it… Say it…_

His heart suddenly seized in panic and the word's wouldn't come. The moment passed and he felt a ten-ton silverback settle on his shoulders.

He'd messed up. Lilly's exasperated expression told him she knew it too.

When Mia looked back at her, Lilly's expression settled into neutrality. "You are way too glam for Halloween."

The conversation moved on, but Michael couldn't help replaying his idiocy over and over again. There were some moments in his life – those especially that contained missed opportunities with Mia – that he _wished_ he could just re-do.

But he couldn't. He wasn't the Time Traveller, Mia wasn't an Eloi, and he certainly didn't own a time machine.

The next thing Michael knew he was brought out of his thoughts by an unmanly cry.

"You made it!"

It was Kenny, who was practically…no, he was _definitely _beaming at Mia.

"I did." Mia grinned.

Kenny's face was _glowing_, and Michael couldn't help but feel that something – something he was sure he didn't particularly like – was going on.

The line suddenly moved on – the other geeks from the Computer Club playing up the Army angle – and before he really knew it they were checking their tickets and finding their seats in the already darkened theatre.

He kept the vision in the corner of his right eye reserved for Mia alone and made sure that when they shuffled along the aisle to their seats she was next to him.

He'd messed up once, he wasn't going to do it again.

As the film rolled, all he could think was that he was sat in the dark next to Mia – _Mia_ – and that it didn't matter that he'd taken the idea of asking her out on a date and contorted it into a 'group thing for Halloween.' He was with Mia, in the dark, and he could feel her fresh scent just…_relaxing _him.

It was perfect, it was everything, and he was _going _to make something happen tonight between them.

With those thoughts in mind, he _really_ enjoyed the film.

He got Mia up and miming along with the appropriate bits, and he had fun firing stale pieces of bread at the screen while Mia laughed when he hit Tim Curry's image in the eye. He even shared his prop umbrella with Mia at one point – unfortunately, it was kind of too large for him to put his arm around her while they were under it, but the feeling of being so close to her was nice.

Even Boris was having a good time, and he hadn't even heard of the film before Lilly invited him.

And the good times didn't stop there. They found themselves pouring out of the theatre, midnight long gone, and totally starving.

Round the Clock was their next stop and, while the Computer Club grabbed a couple of tables together, the rest of them snagged another to themselves.

Michael found himself – not altogether accidentally – squashed in next to Mia, her thigh against his and their shoulders touching. Even though he was in Army duds with fake guts spilling out everywhere, he could feel her warmth and he could imagine how soft the skin of the very curve of Mia's shoulder was…

Boris shook him from his thoughts by loudly asking, "The men, they all wore women's clothing. Explain."

Lilly rolled her eyes at him, scratching her fake beard in irritation before taking it off completely.

"Boris, it's simple. Men all secretly – and some not so secretly – like the feel of fishnets and silk panties."

Michael laughed into his chocolate malt. "Thanks for the generalisation there, Lil."

She just shrugged at him and the confused Boris. "Whatever."

It was then that something suddenly hit Michael's right shoulder, jostling him, and when he turned with a smile on his face to tell Mia that she didn't have to punch him to get his attention…he saw something that made his smile drop and his stomach clench, _painfully_.

Kenny was sporting a smile to rival the Joker's and his only free arm was firmly wrapped around Mia's slender shoulders.

Honest to God, he thought he was going to be sick.

For one tiny fraction of a second, he thought it was a joke…or a mistake – something he'd concocted in his head, just like the immediate jealousy towards Hank – but only Kenny and Mia were smiling…at each other…and Kenny's thumb was making sickening circles on Mia's pale skin.

The skin he had looked at, imagined the softness of, wanted to touch _so badly_…

His eyes automatically sought out Lars', but Mia's bodyguard was looking down at his watch tiredly and making himself up another cup of coffee.

Michael felt the sudden urge to leap over the table and escape, anything but sit and _watch _Kenny _touching _Mia.

_Oh, God…_

He felt something rising in his throat.

"Well, I'm beat. What do you say we call it a night?"

He found himself standing, avoiding all eye contact with Mia and pretending as though Kenny didn't exist and that his hand certainly wasn't enjoying how soft and warm Mia's skin was…

He was going to be sick – he could feel it, his stomach churning. He needed to get out.

"What's with you, Michael? Gotta catch up on your beauty sleep?"

Michael ignored his sister, counting bills out of his wallet for what he owed.

Mia suddenly joined him, Kenny's arm nowhere to be seen. "I'm tired, too. Lars, could you call the car?"

But his relief was brief.

"It's a shame you have to go so early, but I suppose we can meet up soon anyway. So, Mia, can I call you?"

_Get out… Get out… Get out…_

He didn't want to hear the answer to that question – _never, never, never, never…_

Michael saw Lilly suddenly stand too, tugging Boris up from his stack of pancakes with a steely grip. "Come on, Al. Let's blow this juke joint."

"What is a juke joint? And why are we blowing it?"

_Out, out, out…_

Michael slipped further away, wondering how it had happened – and so _quickly_. It should have been him, him that was finding out how soft the skin of her left shoulder was and asking her if he could call her…

_Get out… Get out… Get out…_

A twenty dollar bill was suddenly thrust at him and he looked up to see Lars.

"For the movie tickets."

He shook his head, seeing a tiny hint of concern in the man's eyes, and he felt his ears beginning to burn.

Not only had he not gotten anywhere with Mia, _and _someone else had, but now he was being pitied because of it.

He hadn't even considered making Mia pay for the tickets in the first place either – they were going to be something special, something that she could keep and remember the night by, something to remember _him_ by…

He barely resisted a wince, still shaking his head at Lars. "Oh, no. My treat."

Michael had thought about saying those words before – _to Mia_ – and seeing her smile up at him and–

"Well, thank you very much, Michael."

Her voice rang in his head, his name especially, and this time it didn't make his spine blaze. It made him want to crawl under a rock and die.

_Get out… Get out… Get out…_

The cold city air was little relief to his pounding heart when they stepped outside, his pace a little faster than the others'.

He needed his room, he needed Pavlov, he needed his _safety _back…and he needed his home to help him block out the one simple fact battering his heart to smithereens.

The night he had wanted to turn into only his and Mia's was the night she chose Kenny Showalter over him.

All the smiles, all the laughs – _everything_ – were now going to be Kenny's.

Lilly caught his gaze as Mia's limo pulled up to the sidewalk and everyone climbed inside, and he'd never seen her look so…_sorry_ before.

All because Mia chose Kenny.

_Mia chose Kenny… Kenny, Kenny, Kenny…_

And, suddenly, the pain turned to anger.

He glanced at Mia, all lit up in different shades of pink and blue from the neon sign above them and standing so much closer than he had expected. Kenny was nowhere to be seen.

Michael decided if he was going to lose her, he was going to go down in flames.

"What I meant to say before, Mia, was that you look…you look really…"

Mia looked up, eyes wide and dark with her face brightly lit, and he knew this was his last chance before the proverbial gorilla around his neck crushed him to death.

"You look really nice in that dress."

It was everything, it was nothing, and he hoped to God she just saw herself as beautiful as he did in that one moment because he knew it was his only chance to make her feel that way.

And for one second – for less than the time it took to blink – he saw it. Michael saw that look that he craved, the one that meant she _knew_ just what the hell he was talking about, and he felt weightless. Her smile was stunning.

Kenny soon unceremoniously had Michael falling back to earth by sticking his head out of the sun roof of the limo and asking loudly, "Are you guys coming, or what?"

Mia turned red in the pink and blue light, her smile and her eyes dropping away. "Um…yes."

She climbed in without a word, their moment forgotten.

Lars caught Michael's eyes as he went to step into the limo too, heart heavy and sunk. "Don't stop."

Michael levelled his gaze at him. "What's the point?"

There wasn't one, he knew it, but the fact that he also knew he'd never stop, _ever_, went unsaid between them.

They both knew he loved her too much.


	27. Saturday, December 5, 11 pm

_**Saturday, December 5, 11 p.m.**_

"There's something wrong with this line of code," Judith muttered to herself as she typed in another line in her program on his computer.

Michael didn't bother looking up from where he was sat on his bed, sketching some designs for the costumes they wanted Principal Gupta to wear.

"Have you double-checked?" He asked absently, etching in a whip.

Judith made a noise of realisation but Michael wasn't interested.

It had taken him some time to get used to Judith in his personal space, and whenever she left it still took hours for the overpowering scent of her perfume to dissipate. But he couldn't tell her to take a hike, because she was really quite helpful when it came to putting the program for the Winter Carnival to the test, replicating code, and contacting everyone else in the Club working on the same thing.

It just felt…wrong. That was all. For her to sit there at his desk like she belonged there, or splay herself across his bed where Mia had sat that one time, when he'd told her–

"Boris! It's only ice-skating! You don't need to wear that many layers!"

"But it's cold. We are skating on ice. It will also help prevent injury. I do not understand."

Michael heard his sister make a frustrated noise, before he couldn't help his curiosity and stood up to open his bedroom door.

Lilly glared at him as soon as he revealed the scene in the hallway outside his room.

"What do _you_ want?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Nothing. What's all the screaming for?"

Lilly rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry if we interrupted your 'computer programming' session."

He wondered what the sarcastic air-quotes were for. Did his sister have something against Judith?

"Come on, Boris. We need to go!"

Lilly pushed the layered Boris up the hall and Michael followed.

"So, where are you going?"

"We are going ice-skating," Boris replied.

"With?"

Lilly gave him a 'look'. "With Mia and Tina."

"And Kenny and Dave," Boris added.

Michael felt his insides shrink.

_A big group date. Great._

Mia and Kenny, it was still so hard to get over. He wondered if he ever would.

"Have fun then," he said unnecessarily, waving them off as he went to hunt for chips or _something_ to take his mind off of Mia.

It seemed like he was doing that a lot recently.

Just as Lilly was walking Boris out of the apartment, trying to talk Boris out of wearing his stocking cap, Judith skidded around the corner.

"Did I hear you're going ice-skating?" She asked excitedly.

Lilly and Boris had paused as Michael entered the scene, carrying a half-open can of Tab.

"Yeah, they're going," he told her.

"Can we go, too? I've never been ice-skating before!"

There was a sort of girlish glint in her eye at the chance to go ice-skating, and Michael couldn't really say no.

He turned to Lilly. "We might show up later."

Lilly just shrugged at him and left, towing Boris along behind her out of the door in his extra layers.

Judith was nearly pouting when Michael looked back at her.

"Aren't we going?"

"Yeah, sure. Just make sure you bring your coat. It'll help when you fall over."

* * *

><p>Michael didn't know why he had agreed, but he had. They were all going ice-skating, on a big group date (except for him and Judith, of course,) and he had to remind himself that he was a masochist.<p>

He'd thought it before and he would think it again: when it came to Mia, he was the biggest masochist of them all.

He knew he would see Mia and Kenny ice-skating together, all close on the chilled rink, and when he did he knew the pain would be great. But alongside that pain, he knew, would be anger.

"The last time I came skating," Judith began to tell him as they looked for a place to lace up their skates in the packed seating area.

"Hang on," Michael said, blinking. "I thought you said you'd never been ice-skating before?"

Judith blinked back. "Did I say that? Oh, well, I have."

Sometimes, Michael thought, for such an intelligent person, Judith could be really stupid. Either that or she was a master manipulator, Michael couldn't decide.

He frowned instead. "It doesn't matter."

It did, but he wouldn't fight with her over it, not when they had to keep up a friendly relationship for the success of their computer program.

And then Michael spotted Mia talking to Lilly with a dent between her eyebrows. He practically dragged Judith over to them.

"Oh, hi, you guys," Mia greeted brightly, finishing with her skates and tugging at the sleeves of her bright red coat. "Michael, I didn't know you knew how to ice-skate."

He shrugged, trying not to look too closely at Mia's flushed cheeks or the tiny bit of pink at the end of her nose. "I used to be on a hockey team."

"Yeah." Lilly snorted in her usual fashion. "Pee Wee Hockey. That was before he decided that team sports were a waste of time because the success of the team was dictated by the performance of all the players as a whole, as opposed to sports determined by individual performance such as tennis or golf."

He was _not_ in the mood for one of Lilly's speeches, especially not as he spotted Kenny skating towards them where they were edging along the queue onto the rink.

"Lilly, don't you ever shut up?" He snapped, watching as her face turned puce.

Judith broke in. "I love ice-skating! Although I'm not very good at it."

Michael fought snapping something else, this time at Judith, before they broke out onto the rink and he helped Judith around.

By the time they'd made one trip, he estimated Judith's ability on the ice to be absolutely zero. So Michael just pulled her around by her hands, him skating backwards while Judith wobbled along in his wake.

It kept his mind off of Mia and Kenny skating together closely on the other side of the rink, leaning in to talk to each other–

"Ow! Michael!"

He lessened his grip on Judith's hands as she winced at him. "Sorry."

"I didn't know ice-skating was so demanding," she said conversationally, flexing her fingers.

He ignored her, and as he looked away that was when he saw the Mickey Mouse operation going down across the rink led by Kenny Showalter, just in time to see the guy fall, pulling Mia down with him, and a mist of blood spraying across the ice.

Flashes from cameras went off as tourists gathered around Mia, taking pictures of her spitting up blood as she tried to cover her mouth.

Judith got to the scene first – being a future pre-med who loved a bloody accident – swishing across the ice as if she was born to, and Michael had only a moment to consider why she lied to him before concern for Mia took over.

"Mia? Mia, is your mouth alright? Open it," he told her, crouching as Kenny apologised to her again and again instead of helping Mia with her dented tongue.

Lars _swoosh_ed over just as Judith concluded, "You should see your family practitioner. It seems likely to me that you'll need stitches."

"That's enough skating for one night," Mia's bodyguard intoned, hoisting her up and skating her off of the rink as an attendant made their way to the bloody patch of ice.

Michael flinched as Judith muttered in his ear, "He's frightening, that guy, isn't he?"

He had to wonder what Judith's deal was if she couldn't even tell that Lars was really cool. Even if he did have a Glock under his jacket 24/7.


	28. Monday, December 7, Gifted and Talented

_**Monday, December 7, Gifted and Talented**_

Dr Kessler was a monster, at least in Michael's opinion.

His parents could say whatever they liked on the matter, whether it was about the dentist's good manners or how highly he was thought of in the community, but Michael knew the man was a sadist with numbing agents – too much or too little was his style, and Michael was purely relieved to have been given the lesser evil of too much.

Come on, good manners and respect in the community? You could class Hannibal Lecter under the same categories.

As Michael crossed the cafeteria, rubbing his numb mouth and cursing his 'good' doctor for having him miss his ride to school with Mia and his first two classes, he bumped into someone as he passed the salad bar.

About to apologise and move on, he only noticed it was Mia when her familiar scent hit him right between the eyes. Maybe missing his morning limo ride with her had sensitized him to her citrus-strawberry combination, he didn't know, but he was too stunned to say much else other than the words tumbling out of his mouth.

"How are you doing?"

Christ, he sounded like such a skeeze, unable to hide the breathiness of his voice, but Mia, blessedly, didn't seem to notice.

"Fine," she sighed, smiling a little as she picked up the salad tongs from the bar. "How was your dentist appointment?"

Michael shrugged. "Dr Lecter– _uh_, I mean, Dr Kessler, he found a cavity. He gave me some novocaine so he could fill it and my lips are still numb, but apart from that..."

Mia nodded and her shining blonde hair bounced around her face in a way that really captured his attention, in the same way pointing a laser at a wall might capture a cat's. He was so distracted he hardly noticed Mia's glazed expression, or pretty much anything else that occurred in the space of time that he spent wondering how soft her hair would feel between his fingers.

He only snapped out of his daze when Mia turned bright red, looking past him, and squeaked, "Hi!"

Michael, on instinct, turned and echoed the greeting, thinking it might be his sister, but, on seeing who it _really_ was, wanted to tear back the word and shred it into a thousand fluttering pieces.

Kenny didn't even bother to reply as he walked past with his lunch tray, not even to Mia.

_Screw you, too, bud._

Mia suddenly turned into a stuttering, jittery mess and began fiddling with her usual chickpea and pinto bean salad, sending tomato slices into the lettuce container and cucumber cubes into a bowl of dressing.

Michael decided to leave before he made her any more uncomfortable. "See you."

He got his bi-weekly double with cheese from the burger grill and sat with Judith to eat it, talking about the next Club meeting and tweaks to their program.


	29. Monday, December 7, French

_**Monday, December 7, French**_

"I'm appalled by the fact that, considering how much our tuition costs, this is the kind of support we can expect from our teachers!"

Michael just wanted Lilly to shut up, to shut up and let him get on with his codes and sequences because then he wouldn't have to ask Judith over later to get it done. But, no, she had to go on about her stupid term paper proposal, which didn't even matter anyway because he personally knew she always had three or four proposals as back up in case her first was deemed too inappropriate, _which_ it always was.

Because Lilly always chose the most inflammatory proposal as her first, just so she could get it shot down and prove the 'unfairness' of it all.

She was like that serf from _Monty Python and the Holy Grail_, pushing to get a reaction and screaming 'Help! Help! I'm being repressed!' when she finally got one.

Why the hell did tuition fees matter to her anyway? Last he checked, Mom and Dad footed the bill, not her.

He was not in the best of moods, and he was fairly sure it was hearing from one of Judith's friends about Kenny Showalter and 'that Mia girl' supposedly Frenching in the corridors that had made him that way.

Kenny was Mia's boyfriend, so why shouldn't the guy stick his tongue down her throat? It certainly wasn't Michael's concern, because if it was then Kenny would have been the one to lose the tip of his tongue to an unfortunate and entirely deliberate ice-skating accident.

"That's not true of Mr Gianini," Mia suddenly countered. "He really goes beyond the call of duty by standing after school every day to conduct help sessions for people like me."

'_People like me_,' she said, like she classed herself as something completely different, as of less worth. Michael wondered when she would ever wake up and see herself clearly – wasn't Kenny meant to be telling her how beautiful and smart she was? Did she really _not know_?

Lilly snorted. "Mr Gianini probably only started pulling that staying-after-school thing so that he could ingratiate himself with your mom, and now he can't stop because then she'll realise it was all just a set-up and divorce him."

_Good one, Sherlock. You totally cracked it._

Michael glanced up to see Mia's unconvinced frown, but she didn't say anything else. Like him, she knew when his sister was looking for input or when Lilly just wanted to hear the sound of her own voice – unsurprisingly, the latter was a more common occurrence.

"Anyway," his sister carried on, hitting the desk for emphasis. "The real problem with this school isn't the teachers. It's the apathy of the student body. For instance, let's say we wanted to stage a walkout."

Mia questioned Lilly's latest scheme for him. "A walkout?"

"You know," Lilly said, beginning to look more excited. "We all get up and walk out of the school at the same time."

"Just because Mrs Spears turned down your term paper proposal?"

"No, Mia. Because she's trying to usurp our individuality by forcing us to bend to corporate feudalism. _Again_," Lilly emphasised.

Mia's frown was one of the no-no words Michael had blacklisted inside his own mind in an effort to overcome his suffocating emotions when it came to her – his brain still recognised his repressed 'cute' though.

"Oh," Mia said. "And how is she doing that?"

"By censoring us when we are at our most creatively fertile," Lilly explained, stabbing at the desk with her pointer finger.

Boris then decided to make a sudden appearance from the supply closet. "Fertile?"

Michael didn't want to know why that had been the one word Boris had heard through his closet sonata. Fortunately, Lilly saying Michael's name brought him away from actually questioning the virtuoso.

"Michael, can you send a mass e-mail tonight to the entire student body, declaring a walkout tomorrow at ten?"

He didn't bother looking at his sister like she was crazy, he just continued typing. "I can, but I won't."

Her anticipated shriek was just as loud as he'd thought it might be. "_Why not?_"

Michael still didn't look up from his laptop. "Because it was your turn to empty the dishwasher last night, but you weren't home so I had to do it."

Not that it was such an arduous task, but in their house, if your name was on the rota then you had to do the chore. He hated it when Lilly skimped out, like she thought his sole purpose in life was for picking up her slack.

"But I _told_ Mom I had to go down to the studio to edit the last few finishing touches on this week's show!" She argued.

He was rapidly losing patience. "Look, if you're having time management issues, don't take it out on me. Just don't expect me to meekly do your bidding, especially when you already owe me one."

Not to mention he had enough on his plate already without having to add Lilly to his list.

Mia cut in over his puce-faced sister. "Lilly, no offence, but I don't think this week's a good time for a walkout, anyway. I mean, after all, it's almost Finals."

"_So_?"

Mia sighed. "So some of us really need to stay in class. I can't afford to miss any review sessions. I'm getting bad enough grades as it is."

This captured Michael's full attention, stealing him away from his keyboard.

"Really?" He raised his eyebrows at Mia. "I thought you were doing better in Algebra."

"If you call a D plus better," she replied lowly.

He thought back to his help with Mia's Algebra in G&T before he had started working on his Winter Carnival project. Had missing out on his tutoring really affected her that much? He wasn't sure.

"Aw, come on," Michael wheedled a little. "You have to be making better than a D plus. Your mom is married to your Algebra teacher!"

She shrugged. "So? That doesn't mean anything. You know Mr G doesn't play favourites."

Michael seriously doubted Mr Gianini's love of equality was entirely without fault when it came to the only daughter of the woman he had married.

"I would think he'd cut his own stepdaughter a little slack, is all," he finally said.

Mia opened her mouth to reply but Lilly cut in instantly.

"_Would you two please pay attention to the situation at hand, which is the fact that this school is in vital need of serious reform_?" She practically snarled.

Michael rolled his eyes in relief as the bell suddenly rang and gave him the opportunity to escape his sister's maniacal claws. It also gave him the opportunity to consider how to help out Mia a little more.

It didn't escape his notice that he was unwilling to empty the dishwasher again for his sister, but he wanted to try to make time in his busy schedule to help Mia with her schoolwork – he just simply chose to ignore it.


	30. Tuesday, December 8, English

_**Tuesday, December 8, English**_

He was just coming out of the Chemistry lab, exiting the jostling queue, when he saw it and, more importantly, _heard it_.

Mia was standing in the hallway, students milling about her as she passed by, her hand raised in a half-wave to somebody just over his shoulder. Michael watched the train-wreck as it happened, as if in slow motion.

Her smile, which had been at half-wattage at best anyway, dropped, and then a shout echoed through the crowd from the direction she had been waving in. The voice was wavering and unwelcome in familiarity.

"I don't care if you don't feel the same way, Mia! I will always love you!

Why did God hate him and not Kenny Showalter? Seriously. Why did _Kenny_ get swan about, Mia as his girlfriend, shouting about his _love_, and Michael had to stand back and watch, sick to his stomach and wondering if he could get away with creaming the guy after school?

He watched Mia's expression become that familiar look of 'swallowed-bowling ball' shock, and turned, passing by all the laughing students and the self-confident Kenny. Michael wondered if he would ever catch a break.

A tap on his shoulder as he turned the corner off of the hallway broke him out of his thoughts, and he looked beside him to see Judith, smiling.

"Hey!"

"Hi."

"That was weird, huh?" She said. "Sweet kid, though."

Michael made a non-committal noise. Judith took it as a sign to continue.

"So, I've got study hall fifth. Think it'd be okay if I joined you in Gifted and Talented to work on the project?"

Michael paused, Judith stopping in her tracks along with him, and he gave her a long look.

_Why is she wearing tan pantyhose?_

She didn't have legs like Mia, or a smile like Mia's, or a laugh like Mia's, and he wasn't sure why he was comparing the two or thinking all these things, but, in the end, his brain cryptically decided it was better to let everything play out like it would. He needed some help with the project anyway.

Michael nodded. "Sure. See you then."


	31. Tuesday, December 8, Bio

_**Tuesday, December 8, Bio.**_

Michael would have liked to say he had no idea why Judith had draped her arm across the back of his chair during G&T, but as they worked on their project and her fingers continued to touch the line of his shoulder, he understood what she was all about.

The pantyhose, the smiles, _everything_ – it was all for _him_, and he knew she didn't just want to go out ice-skating again. She had a boyfriend, and he knew she wasn't looking for a replacement.

Yeah, it made him nervous, and uncomfortable, and he certainly didn't understand why some guys got off on knowing they were wanted so intensely, so sexually, but a tiny part of him enjoyed the distraction from Mia and Lilly's conversation.

He still heard every thing they said.

"I apologise for not believing you about Kenny's phone call. I mean, it just didn't seem realistic that he would tell you he loves you so soon." He saw Lilly tap her chin. "He seemed to me to be a very restrained individual."

"Poor kid." Judith broke in at his side, visibly startling Mia. "I heard what he said to you in the hallway. I was in the Chem. lab. What was it again?" She asked unnecessarily. "'I don't care if you don't feel the same way, Mia, I will always love you,' or something like that?"

Michael glanced up from his laptop, catching Mia's glare aimed at the oblivious Judith. He wanted to smile.

_She's still got it_.

He loved that feisty streak to Mia. She was in no way a 'bad girl,' but, God, it was hot when she let loose a little bit.

"It's really sweet, if you think about it," Judith continued, as if Mia wasn't obviously picturing her in some amount of pain. "I mean, the guy's clearly got it bad for you."

"He's obviously very in touch with his emotions," Lilly added. "Unlike _some _people."

Michael didn't even have to glance up to know his sister was aiming those sharp, little words of hers directly at him. It was all hiding in the tone of her voice. She might have been talking to Mia, but she was also telling him that he was some maladaptive idiot who couldn't even outright tell the girl of his dreams that he loved her.

_Well, screw her._

"Just because Mia doesn't go around shouting about how she feels in the third-floor hallway doesn't mean she isn't in touch with her emotions," burst out of his mouth.

He looked up to see Lilly's narrowed eyes on his. They both knew he wasn't talking about Mia.

"Yeah," the girl in question chipped in, smiling, surprising him out of his staring contest with his sister.

Lilly left Michael alone, turning to Mia with a displeased look. "Well, you could have said something back to him. Instead of just leaving him hanging there."

"And what should I have said to him?" Mia asked plainly.

"How about that you love him back?"

Michael tried to reacquaint himself with the work he was supposed to be doing, instead of masochistically waiting for Mia's rejoinder. He failed miserably.

"Look." When he glanced up, he saw Mia was bright red and embarrassed as hell. "I really and truly value Kenny's companionship."

_Companionship?_ She wanted companionship? Christ, Michael could have done that with his eyes closed, it was so easy to be with Mia. So what did Showalter have that he didn't?

She continued. "But love. I mean, _love_. That is a very big thing. I'm not, I mean, I don't..."

Was she just too embarrassed to say she loved the guy, or – and he tried not to let himself get too far ahead – did she not love him at all?

The room was silent. Mia said nothing more, and just slipped down in her chair slightly, as if she was shrinking under the weight of every pair of eyes in the room.

Michael tried not to be too disappointed that she never finished her sentence.

Lilly broke the silence. "I see. Fear of commitment."

He wanted to roll his eyes. Mia had absolutely no fear of commitment and that was plainly obvious – she was just inexperienced, and probably nervous. She just needed an interested ear to hear what she had to say – unfortunately, that particular opportunity had gone to Kenny.

Michael forced himself to get back to work.

"Let's examine the situation, shall we?" Lilly said coolly, about the same time he managed to tune her out.

He, however, was unable to ignore Mia's aggravated tones, and so the loop began again. "There are lots of boys I–"

"Oh, yeah? Name one."

Mia blinked. "One what?"

"Name a boy that you could see yourself committing to for all eternity," Lilly challenged.

"What do you want – a list?"

"A list would be nice."

In the ensuing silence of Mia and his sister drawing up one of their infamous lists, Michael managed to get his head on straight and put everything but the Winter Carnival out of his mind.

Unfortunately, a few moments later he accidentally glanced at the piece of paper beneath Mia's hand and what he saw gave him the mother of all ideas. This idea was then quashed by Judith's fingertips roving his shoulder again.

_Mia has a boyfriend, and she doesn't want me_.

He told himself this for the rest of the period, letting it take hold as Judith talked him into skipping and invited herself over to his empty home.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note<strong>: The interlude O/s between this chapter and the next is up now on my page – '**Long Time Comin'**,' and it's Michael/Judith, so it's obvious what happens (sad sigh.) Also, I don't make many of these notices in this fic, for writing/aesthetic purposes, so I'd just like to take this opportunity to say thank you to _everyone_ who has read and reviewed this humble fanfic. There have been so many wonderful comments, and I'm so glad I seem to be doing this right! Thankyouthankyouthankyou!


	32. Tuesday, December 8, 8:45 pm

_**Tuesday, December 8, 8:45 p.m.**_

Physically, Michael was tired, but mentally? His mind was running a mile a minute – code and ideas and sketches already forming as he opened an IM conversation with Mia.

His sister had unknowingly given him his conversation starter.

_**CracKing**: Did you just get that whacked-out mass e-mail from my sister?_

He kept his fingers calm as he waited for Mia's reply, thinking about what he could actually do with a program dedicated to Mia. How could he make it so it was obvious what he felt, what he _wanted_? And then, the even bigger question was, did he want to really put himself out there so openly?

Yes, he thought, it was time for a little change, and Judith had made him finally see that.

_**FtLouie**: Yes._

Winter Carnival was his predominant thought, but he suddenly worried about Mia going along with Lilly's scheme, causing her grades, especially Algebra, to suffer.

_**CracKing**: You're not going along with her stupid walkout, are you?_

Mia's reply was slow.

_**FtLouie**: Oh, right. She won't be too mad if I don't, or anything._

He smiled at Mia's shy reluctance.

_**CracKing**: You don't have to do everything she says, you know, Mia. I mean, you've stood up to her before. Why not now?_

Michael barely restrained himself from adding how cool and, ultimately, hot it was to see her being so..._bossy._

_**FtLouie**__: I find the path of least resistance is often the safest one when dealing with your sister_.

"How wise," he said to himself.

_**CracKing**: Well, I'm not doing it. Walking out, I mean._

_**FtLouie**: It's different for you. You're her brother. She has to remain on speaking terms with you. You live together._

At that precise moment, he heard Lilly arguing with their mom about her chores, and he couldn't help but roll his eyes, before looking towards the desk drawer holding his acceptance letter to Columbia.

_**CracKing**: Not for much longer. Thank God._

_**FtLouie**: That's right. You got accepted to Columbia. Early decision too. I never did congratulate you. So, congratulations._

Michael smiled.

_**CracKing**: Thanks._

_**FtLouie**: You must be happy that you'll know at least one other person there. Judith Gershner, I mean._

Her message brought him right back down to earth, to a place where he wasn't meant to be enjoying casual, _normal_ conversation between them, but rather accepting he had slept with Judith for some fun and it had lead him to realising just how much he really needed Mia. He had so much to do and an important question to ask.

Time for one of his infamous segues.

_**CracKing**: Yeah, I guess so. Listen, you're still going to be in town for the Winter Carnival, right? I mean, you're not leaving for Genovia before the 18th, are you?_

The length of time she took to reply, IM claimed, was one minute. To Michael, it felt like an age before his laptop _ding_ed.

_**FtLouie**: I'm leaving for Genovia on the 19th._

"_Yes_."

Michael thought that it would be at this point that most guys would ask the girl to the dance and be done with it. Oh, no, he had to go an extra mile. Why? Because she was worth it.

_**CracKing**: Oh, good. Because you should really stop by the Computer Club's booth at the Carnival and check out this program I've been working on. I think you'll like it._

Okay, so, he lied. He hasn't even started it yet, but with proper time management – something he has tried to teach Lilly before, but never succeeded in doing – he thought he could do it. Judith could finish their joint program, and Michael could work on Mia's – it could be done in time.

_**FtLouie**: Can't wait. Well, I have to go. Bye._

The sound of a door slamming announced Mia's exit from IM, and Michael sat back in his chair, staring at the black and white of the pixels on his laptop screen. _Can't wait_... Neither could he.

He looked over his shoulder at his mussed sheets and frowned, wondering if Maya might think it strange of him to ask her to launder them again.

He just needed a fresh start.


	33. Wednesday, December 9, Homeroom

_**Wednesday, December 9, Homeroom**_

Was it unmanly of him to feel afraid that he'd just seen a girl run away giggling from his locker?

He was at the end of the corridor, staring at the row of lockers across from him as if they might pop open and reveal some sort _Silent Hill_-esque dimension that would swallow him whole.

It didn't help that he thought he recognised the girl who had run away with a gym kit bag slung over her shoulder, hefty bodyguard trailing behind, though he hadn't really talked to her himself, just seen her in passing. So, what was Tina Hakim Baba doing putting something in his locker?

His first thought was Lilly, that his sister had gotten the girl to do something to him, some kind of prank, but he knew Lilly wasn't all that fond of the Saudi Arabian sheik's daughter, and that Tina was closer to Mia.

He decided to just take the plunge and open his locker.

Michael put in his combination and opened the door to see a square, white envelope hanging from the bottom slit in the grill. It was unmarked and unstuck.

He hefted his bag firmly onto his shoulder so he had both hands to deal with the card. He opened it.

_Roses are red_

_Violets are blue_

_You may not know it_

_But someone loves you._

The handwriting was neat and swirling, definitely girlish, and even if the card had no poem inside of it, the picture on the front would have given him an idea as to what the sender wanted to tell him.

Michael quizzically frowned at the photo of a chocolate-covered strawberry, before opening the card and reading the poem again.

He thought back to all the times he'd seen Tina and never had he once thought she looked like she had a crush on him. And she seemed like the kind of girl who would be incredibly obvious and forward about it.

No, this was a mystery, and one he intended to solve.

He took out a couple of books from his locker, swapping them with another two from his bag, and put the card between them. He closed his locker, reset the lock, and headed off to his next class.

He wondered if Lilly knew anything about the card, and, if she did, how many of her chores he would have to take on before she spilled.


	34. Wednesday, December 9, G & T

_**Wednesday, December 9, Gifted and Talented**_

Judith had invited herself into Gifted and Talented to work on their project again, but, this time, Michael was much less focused on her presence.

"What code is that?"

He turned to look over his shoulder at Judith. "Just...something."

She frowned at him. "You okay?"

Michael gave himself a moment to relax his tense muscles and just _breathe_. He was stressed about getting his _secret_ project done on time, because he knew if he didn't do it before Mia went to Genovia, he would never do it. His courage was a fickle thing when it came to her.

He glanced up, over his laptop, to see her writing furiously into her journal, her soft, blonde hair falling in her big, grey eyes...

"It's her, isn't it?"

Judith's voice was hushed, but it still made Michael flinch. "What?"

She flicked her curls over her shoulder and levelled her gaze with his. "You know I have a boyfriend."

He struggled to keep up with the turn in conversation. "Yeah."

"And we still...you know. You've been so...well, kind of _depressed_, Michael." She scanned him. "You just seem like you always have the weight of the world on your shoulders, and now, after yesterday, you look at Mia and you–"

He cast a glance over at the girl in question who was shooting a death-glare at the oblivious, loudly-playing Boris. He wanted to smile.

"It was a mistake."

The statement came from Judith, not Michael, though he didn't exactly disagree.

"I know." Her smile was tight. "I don't mind. I kind of...get it. You know," she lowered her voice even further, "you and her. Makes sense really, doesn't it?"

Michael frowned, but said nothing. _Did_ it make sense? He didn't see how, when Mia was a princess and he was just an early acceptance into Columbia, but then, deep down, he knew that what he felt for her was too big and scary to dismiss so easily.

Judith gave a sigh. "It was fun though, right? I mean, even if I was the catalyst for this thing with her, we had a blast."

He gave her smile, because what else could he do? She could be manipulative, and stupid when it kind of counted, but, in the end, she was sort of decent at least.

"Yeah. Thanks."

"No problem." She looked at her notepad on the table. "I'll just...work on fixing that bug with the costumes."

She carried on with her work and Michael carried on with his, and, he thought, it was just how it should have always been when they started this project together, with no entanglement or awkwardness. And it didn't matter that Mia was still with Kenny, because if he could read the signals – which he wasn't_ totally_ convinced he could – then it didn't seem like she was all that into her boyfriend. This gave Michael at least a _chance_.

All he needed was a grand gesture, like the one at his fingertips on his hard drive. He just hoped he didn't fall flat on his face.


	35. Thursday, December 10, Homeroom

_**Thursday, December 10, Homeroom**_

Michael was dressed and ready to go far too early, he was so eager to get to school and work on his secret project some more. The conversation he'd had with Judith the day before had allowed him an extra hour's sleep, and he was feeling like a wind-up toy ready to _go_.

He didn't want to wait at the subway station any longer than necessary – especially considering the incident earlier that week with the guy who had taken a particular shine to his hair – so Michael killed time by having a bowl of cereal in the unlit kitchen.

He didn't notice Lilly standing in the doorway until she spoke.

"Any good _reads_ recently?"

Michael looked up, mid-chew, and frowned. "Huh?"

She was still in her pyjamas, hair wrecked from sleep, but her eyes were bright and he knew he was in trouble.

Smirking, Lilly put together her own bowl of Cap'n Crunch. "I was just wondering if you'd read anything worthwhile recently, Michael. You know, blogs, books, letters..._cards_..."

He nearly choked. Lilly was still smiling once he had cleared his throat and turned to squint at her with watery eyes.

"You _do _know," he practically rasped.

Her face was about to break in two from her glee. "When _don't _I? I was wondering when you were going to ask me. I saw the card on your desk."

"When were you in my room?" He glared.

Lilly rolled her eyes. "Calm down, _Romeo_. You left the door open and I looked inside. No big."

He sighed and put his bowl in the sink. "Go on, then. What do you want?"

"_Well_." She folded her arms over her chest, looking triumphant. "I was thinking you could be a little more _understanding_ when I have to work on my show and can't do my chores."

He gave her a sideways glance. "Uh-_huh_. And how often are we talking here?"

"_Often_."

"Okay, so, I have twice my share of chores. What else?"

She began eating her cereal. "I want a written agreement that you will never, _ever_ tell anyone about what you saw in the bathroom that time."

He opened his mouth to argue. "But–"

"_Never_," she stressed.

He locked away the memory of walking in on Lilly French kissing the back of her hand as she provided dialogue for herself and the phantom guy she had been pretending to suck face with. As if he hadn't tried to get rid of it already.

"Okay, but this better be good," he told her.

Lilly snorted into her breakfast. "That's for you to decide. I would have thought you'd have figured it out by now, big brother."

He nonchalantly leant back against the counter and shoved his hands in his pockets to stop their excited itching. He prepared himself for what was coming.

"Come on, then," he urged when Lilly remained quiet.

She looked at him seriously. "And you better not hurt her, because I swear to _God_–"

He scoffed to himself, heart sinking. "Knew it."

"What?" Lilly frowned.

"It _is_ Tina, isn't it?"

And then Lilly burst out laughing in great, shocking peals.

Michael stared, his ears heating with embarrassment. "_What_?"

Lilly threw down her bowl and braced herself next to him against the counter. She looked like she was going to cry from joy at any second.

"You," she gasped, "are _such_...an _idiot_. It's _Mia_, Michael – Tina told me Mia's been sending the cards and getting Tina to put them in your locker."

"Card-_s_? You mean, I have more– _wait_...it's _Mia_?"

Lilly wiped her eyes, nodding and laughing. Michael felt something very much like his heart explode inside his chest.

_Mia_, the girl of his _dreams_, wanted him too? No, it was too good to be true, and yet...why else would Lilly have been so serious about him not hurting her? She'd already told him to go for it, had supported him when Kenny had stepped in, and, to be honest, she had never lied to him when it came to her best friend. She'd had her fun here and there, but she'd never really led him on.

But now she was _telling_ him Mia liked him, and...he had to believe her, if only for the sake of his own sanity.

"_So_," she breathed, coming down from her laughing jag. "Are you riding with us today?"

Michael shook his head, mind racing. "No. No, I...I've got work to do."

She looked him in the eye for a moment, before nodding. "Better get going. She'll be here soon." He was already out of the front door when Lilly called after him. "And I want that agreement written and signed _tonight_!"

"Lilly, we've told you before, no legal or binding documents!" Their dad shouted from somewhere down the hall.

Michael ran the entire way to the subway station, but he didn't take in a single sight or sound as he got on that train.

All he could think of were those words in that card and how it was _Mia_ who had penned that poem declaring her love for him. _Mia_.

He threw his head back and _laughed_.

* * *

><p>Tina stood in front of him, worrying the end of her dark plait as she watched him open the unsealed, white card she had just handed him. Her hefty bodyguard stood close by, eyes narrowed.<p>

_Shhhh..._

_Roses are red_

_But cherries are redder_

_Maybe she can clone fruit flies_

_But I like you better._

Michael smiled, pulled his bag higher over his shoulder, and tucked the card inside the open zip.

"Thanks, Tina."

She bit her lip before replying. "Lilly told me that you know. Just...don't tell Mia I told Lilly. She'll _kill _me."

He nodded, unable to wipe the silly grin off of his face. Tina began to smile too.

"Are you going to make some grand, _romantic_ gesture?" She asked breathily.

Michael gave a tentative nod, and the petite girl had to muffle her sudden, excited squeal.

"Eek! Okay, I'm late for class! Bye!" She turned away and practically skipped up the hallway, bodyguard close behind.

Michael closed his locker and made for his own class, his every thought on the little card in his bag.

His smile didn't disappear for the rest of the hour.


	36. Thursday, December 10, G & T

_**Thursday, December 10, Gifted and Talented**_

Michael had skipped for what might have been – _was_ – the first time in his life, and he couldn't have cared less. Did skipping to work on a project really count anyway?

He'd passed Lilly on the way to the Computer Lab and asked her to make an excuse for him in G & T. She'd agreed for the hefty price of getting his room once he went to college, and he had only said yes because he knew she would have gotten it anyway as soon as he had one foot out the door.

There really was no controlling his little sister.

He plugged in the access cable for the internet, as well as the power cord, and waited as his laptop connected. It announced its success with a bright trill and Michael eagerly searched for the forum he so desperately needed.

Mia's program was nowhere near finished and there was already a bug that caused it to crash halfway through the sequence. He didn't want to be midway through spilling his guts only to have the program go on the fritz and leave him hanging.

Michael thanked every divine being he could think of when he found a guy named _GoblinKing_ who'd had the same problem and knew how to fix it. He saved the username for a spot in his e-zine to thank the guy after this had all blown over.

As his laptop downloaded the linked software patch, he glanced over at his notebook that he had cast off on the desk. The lab was empty, dim except for the glow of his laptop and the sunlight breaking in past the closed blinds, and so no one but he was around to see his sketches for Mia's palace.

He'd drawn trees and flowers and paths and walls and turrets and...it needed something _more_. Michael wanted to _tell_ her how he felt, not just give her something pretty, and as he looked at the page of sketches and ideas, he had a brainwave.

He searched through his bag for a pencil, and as soon as one was in his hand he took it up and sketched in a little scroll-like banner.

He felt himself smile.

"_Roses are red, violets are blue... _Yes._ You may not know it_..._but_ _I_...like? No..._love you too_..."

He'd cracked it.


	37. Friday, December 11, 8 pm, the Loft

_**Friday, December 11, 8 p.m., the Loft**_

Michael was working – _again _– when there was a banging on his bedroom door.

He'd managed to get out of school early so he could work on Mia's palace while he was still pumped, although he had incurred a hefty amount of homework to make up for it. He knew his teachers loved him, because he would never have made it past his first excuse otherwise.

He lifted himself from his chair, stretched his sore neck, and opened the door to his sister.

"What?"

Her face was a picture. "You don't know?"

Michael pulled his hand down his face. "No, _Lil_, I don't, so can we hurry this up, please? I'm busy."

"Whatever." She rolled her eyes. "Mia got suspended from school and is officially my heroine. Thought you'd like to know."

With that, she stomped away in her thick-soled school shoes. Michael practically ran back to his laptop.

He connected to the internet and opened IM. Mia was online.

_**CracKing**: Hey, Thermopolis, what's this I hear about you getting suspended?_

Her reply was quick.

_**FtLouie**: Just for one day._

Wow. So it was true.

_**CracKing**: What'd you do?_

_**FtLouie**__: Crushed a cheerleader's mobile phone_.

He couldn't help but laugh. Lilly, sans blazer and tie, walked by his open door and rolled her eyes at him again.

"Who was it?" Michael asked her.

She smirked. "Lana. I don't know what she did, but I know better than to tick off a _princess_, especially Mia."

He barely contained his scoff. "You always piss her off."

"_Yeah_, but I'm the 'Best Friend'," she stressed. "I'm _allowed_. Besides, she totally owes me after that time she spilled juice on my political journal and it was unsalvageable."

He turned back to his laptop. Lilly left his doorway with a grumble.

_**CracKing**: Your parents must be so proud._

_**FtLouie**: If so, they've done a pretty good job of disguising it so far._

A thought struck, and his heart beat a little faster.

_**CracKing**: So, are you grounded?_

_Please say no... Please say no..._

_**FtLouie**: Surprisingly, no. I told them the attack on the phone was provoked._

Michael felt pure and utter relief, but, still, he wanted clarification.

_**CracKing**: So you'll still be going to the Carnival next week?_

_**FtLouie**: As secretary to the Students Against the Corporatization of Albert Einstein High School, I believe my attendance is required. Your sister is planning for us to have a booth._

Was it possible to laugh and sigh simultaneously? Because he did.

_**CracKing**: That Lilly. She's always looking out for the good of mankind._

_**FtLouie**: That's one way of looking at it._

She logged off without another word. He knew not to feel offended; her mom liked having the telephone free a lot.

Michael glanced over at the two cards from Mia sitting on his desk.

_Not long now._


	38. Saturday, December 12, 9:30 pm, the Loft

_**Saturday, December 12, 9:30 pm, the Loft**_

The first he knew about the crazy _Sunday Times_ thing was Lilly's e-mail simultaneously appearing in his inbox as her not-so-dulcet tones rang out across the apartment, "You might want to take a look!"

So he opened the message. He was greeted by pictures of Mia, and she looked..._amazing_.

"Holy..._crap_."

It was an entire spread taken off of the _Sunday Times_ website from their latest issue, and it looked like Mia was modelling the different dresses she was wearing in the photos, except for the crappy quality of the pictures.

He assumed her dad would be going crazy over at HQ right about now.

Even though Michael was kind of dazed by how beautiful Mia was in the photos, and how amazing her figure looked, especially in the silky blue number – which he decided was his favourite in under two seconds flat – Michael managed to type out an e-mail to Mia entitled, '_Thinking of abdicating and stepping into fashion then, Thermopolis?_'

He sent the message as soon as he had written it, hoping to make her feel better, but by the time it had already gone he wondered if he had said the right things. So he sent her another e-mail, this time with a joke in it that he had lifted off of his latest 'zine subscription, and then before he knew it he had sent her another two.

Michael logged off and snapped his laptop shut to stop himself from bombarding Mia with any more e-mails.

He rubbed his tired eyes, telling himself, "Get some sleep and then get back to work."

He knew it was all worth it.


	39. Monday, December 14, Homeroom

_**Monday, December 14, Homeroom**_

Michael was feeling fried.

It felt like any second his skull would just disintegrate, his aching brain swelling to how big it felt, and then he would end up looking like one of the aliens out of _Mars Attacks!_

Seeing as it was Reading Day, he'd decided to give himself a break and just get on with some of his accumulated class work.

Judith hadn't helped his current state by telling him she needed to send over some project stuff for him to look at, though. Everything was just piling up, and it didn't feel like any of it would ever ease off.

This vicious circle, however, was broken by Mia.

They were walking to Homeroom, his near hers, when a cluster of students heading in the same direction stopped them from proceeding. At first, he was irritated, but then, as they slowed down, he saw her glance at him, and something altogether different surfaced.

He caught a whiff of her scent, so intoxicating, and it was like everything – _everything_ – was ten-million times better. Just her _smell_ could do that to him.

Michael felt himself smiling. He looked over at her.

"Hey, Mia."

Mia's head turned and she blinked up at him. "Yeah?"

Her eyes were so wide, and pretty, and for a second, he truly, _truly _believed she was in love with him, just by her gaze. But only when he had made himself look like an idiot and she had returned the sentiment would the fact be ironclad in his head.

"Your boot's untied," he managed to tell her.

She continued to look up at him. He realised they'd stopped walking.

"Mia?"

Her voice was barely there and entirely breathy. "Yes?"

"Your boot?"

A blond kid pushed past, jostling Mia's backpack, and she snapped out of her stupor like someone had lit a fire beneath her. She nearly knocked herself out scrambling to her knees to tie her lace.

"T-Thanks," she stuttered, blushing furiously.

Michael felt his ears turn a similar shade of red. "No problem."

Mia stood up, laces tied, smiling, and again, _just like that_, he felt like he could go for a few rounds with a heavyweight champion. Just from her _smile_.

"No problem," he repeated, for his own ears, as they rushed to make the bell.


	40. Friday, December 18, Homeroom

_**Friday, December 18, Homeroom**_

Grades were being passed out left, right, and centre, and though Michael was keen to know his own scores, he was also thinking about Mia's.

So, he decided to take a trip to her locker and wait there for her, just to see how she'd done in Algebra. He wanted to make sure his preoccupation with his project(s) hadn't _really_ affected her scores.

Michael was stood at her locker for five minutes before Lana Weinberger and Justin Baxendale showed up, talking about Josh Richter. Like Michael really wanted to hear any more about that tool, especially after what he had done to Mia.

He rolled his eyes at them and turned to look at Mia's locker. It was half-open.

Curious and frowning, Michael pulled the door open an inch. A yellow, long-stemmed flower fell into his waiting hand, and he wondered why Mia – the freaking _princess _– had a locker with no lock on it.

But...a yellow rose? Did he have something, or _someone_ – besides Kenny, obviously – to worry about when it came to Mia and winning her affections?

He glanced up from the rose to see the girl in question looking at him like she had swallowed a bowling ball and then another one on top of that.

Why did his heart start beating ten times faster?


	41. Friday, December 18, Winter Carnival

_**Friday, December 18, Winter Carnival**_

"Here," Michael blurted in the face of Mia's stunned confusion and, no doubt, irritation. "This just fell out of your locker."

He practically _threw_ the rose at Mia, but she didn't scowl or ask what he was doing snooping in her locker. No, she swallowed hard and took the flower in one of her gentle hands, looking like it was the answer to all the mysteries of the universe.

Michael kinda wished she would look at him like that.

Only when Mia's eyes roved down did he notice a note tied to the flower. He tried not to be too obvious as he peered over the top of the small, white square of paper and, when that failed, as he attempted to read the words through the paper under the bright hallway lights.

Michael made out a single word: _Snowflake_.

His hammering heart and sinking stomach returned to normal. There wasn't a secret admirer, just a Secret Snowflake.

Trying to repress his sudden grin, Michael asked, "Well? What's the verdict?"

Mia looked up from the flower in her hand with an expression of such utter confusion that he wondered if it was just her permanent 'look' today. Then the thought struck him that something bad might have actually happened, which was why Mia was acting so weird, or that she'd failed Algebra and it was _his fault _for not being around to help her.

His forehead creased in worry, his eyebrows lifted, and he tilted his head forward a little as he asked slowly, "What did you get in Algebra?"

The dreaded 'A'-word seemed to shake Mia out of whatever cloud she'd thrust her head into, and she hurriedly pulled out a thick sheet of paper from her backpack (the expensive one he knew her grandmother had bought her, but which Mia had made her own by pinning a '_Save the Whales_' badge to.)

Michael glimpsed the computer type spelling out her name and '_B–_' right before his arms were full of Mia and she was laughing and smiling and singing, "_Wheeee_!"

It was so right, and it felt so good, and for single second Michael thought that maybe – _maybe _– he didn't have to put himself out there at the carnival and make some grand gesture to show Mia that they could be good together. He thought that maybe she would just look up from where her head was resting on his shoulder and he'd see that look – the dark-eyed, parted-lip one – and they'd kiss, and that would be it.

Together. No Kenny, no Judith, and nothing standing in the way.

But Mia eventually pulled back, and though Michael thought he saw something in her expression that hinted at what he _really wanted _to see, she just smiled and thanked him for all his help, giving him a second to say '_no problem_' before telling him she'd see him at the Winter Carnival later.

"Don't be late," he told her, before retreating to set up the rest of the Computer Club's booth with Judith.

Weinberger had already vacated the area, leaving Michael to thank his lucky glow-in-the-dark stars because he really didn't need that type of discouragement at that particular moment.

He had a grand gesture to make.


End file.
